Lyrics:
swore I was shaft and Richard Roundtree
So, no
The younger me thought I was real tough
A bonafide Bruce Leroy
Right or wrong in black exploitation films
on the television
Might as well call the gang up for an intermission
Party of eight walkin' in the club flexin'
Saucin' on the gig's last paycheck, raise that
the alley under a ladder tripped over a black cat
Fell in the street got hit by a toyota with a hatchback
Play my music let everyone know that I can rhyme
But
to the party woah
Bring all of yo friend we gon' turn em into molly girls
Take another hit this exotic you gon' leave the world
Demons in these drugs seeing hell
a brudda move like Grizzy
Bare live corn in a four door truck
If I came earlier I would have saw more luck
North Face jacket same one
From the crib session
the sky
A lot of people smoke just to get by
But I see things much differently
Medically, physically, mentally, theoretically
Put it in a letter so you
And then some
Black bodies dropping
It obviously isn't random
Need the Black Panther Party to pop out
And we dismantle all this systematic racism
To get it
stürm deine Party
Malis, Zazas, M.O.B Gang
Pussyboy I Never See you again
Black TNs werden heute noch Red
Blockparty im 7. kippen Henny ins Cup
Bin
Yeah, sitting in the staircase, holding back tears
Looking over mad years worth of photographs
Pictures of some places I ain't never going back
Some
Let me blow the smoke all in the air
You know it's a party when Snoop's here
The ladies let their hair go down low
We let the whole club lights
eve parties
As we kiss hard on the lips
And swear this year will be better than the last
Jet black - the ink that spells your name
Jet black -
gun
Here we go, break of day, with a mad lye session
Down in Bucktown it's Black Moon, and Smif-N-Wessun
Pick up the pace 'cause we're right behind
In a fancy car all the town to see, oh, yeah
Well, now everyone is watching you, you finally had your dream
Yeah, and you're ridin' in a long black
And you know it is what it is
But now I gotta go to the studio
Cause you know David needs me in a session
But I'm pretty hungover but you know
Shit my
You can call me a skunk
Cause I'm white and black funk
Not much junk in my trunk
Just a whole lotta spunk
And I'm feelin like Nietzche
I know God is
thugs cup
By the end of the night after the session man I'm zoned fucked up
It's an everyday thang we just let our nuts hang
Keeping them suckers outta my
receive, if you got tha green
By any necessary means, sellin mission,
But if you think you see me wanna try
Hoppin' off in ya ride, tha night if tha bird,
the connections
To the universe
The future the past and the present
Aboriginal ritualistic black magic in session
When I go and then
Kick a rap with aggression
High demand in the cut with the newest fit
Too legit, I'm not new to this
Ring on every finger so they say I'm overdoing it
But it don't really
the heart
Warrior in dah mind
And a servant to the people
Shh
Silence silence silence
Attention
Ladies and Gentle men
Class in session
They party has just be
I’ll hit another line
Shawty wanna party, fuck, guess I’ll get down
Every time we get together, always end up outta town, then we black out
She just
bikes, I like eggs in my rice
Circus money, read the Staten Island funnies
Eighty seven, Shallah rock, lotto's and the gumby
Tri-boro, fly negro, rap for
down, the top down on the Pontiac
Where ever you wind up is where the party's at
Break out the bottle of Bacardi Black
And don't look back 'cause
Here's
down the top down on the Pontiac
Where ever you wind up is where the party's at
Break out the bottle of Bacardi black
And don't look back 'cause
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