Lyrics:
One wore black
One wore black
The trail of tears is winding on
Many pass along the road
Dusty soldiers march along
As they file one by one
black
If it was up to me your whole
CD would be a hidden track
Cause you're from knowing jack
They're like a poetry like Kerouac
You can't shoot me down
I am the one that they wanna be, truth
Dasani my diamonds, I freeze in the booth
Orange and black the Vlone on my boots
Mob with my soldiers, my
must be a dyke
Witcho' lips swoll, and give a nig' some ackrite
Blunt in my left hand, drink in my right
Strap by my waistline, cause niggas don't
must be a dyke
Witcho' lips swoll, and give a nig' some ackrite
Blunt in my left hand, drink in my right
Strap by my waistline, cause niggas don't
my best kept secret just like my hidden stash
Phones stacking up with these written tracks
Tryna build up these mad stacks
Still working an tryna turn
Nicaragua
Gave birth to MC's, seeds and bank robbers
We drove with pistol whips into world-wide trips
And my dick's been sucked by the finest lips
Stand
Cell by cell and frame by frame
Names, dates, it's all immaterial:
We big dicks sick rhyme killer like cereal
I burn like venereal
Spit that imperial
The black flames of damnation
are flaring up again
What daytime can't remember
the cold and dark night knows
Hidden in shadowy realms
its old embers glow
froze
Like toes on bodies in the morgue
That was put there by the squad
Look here I'm the God on the mic
On the track
Like Arthur Ashe with a tennis racq'
Back on a track
That don't sound too old
What's goin on? I don't know its trouble
Back in black to bust that bubble
Black supermans back and not
I can see your nerves hanging on a string
24 7, poor little thing
Turned my soul
Red to pitch black
Now I stole your pride
Not giving it back
Your road is hidden by eternity and there is a doomed look in your eyes.
But there's a smirk on your lips, you're almost at the black gate.
Where
down
But these words still spoken by the dopest of poets
Sonic opiates to open the mind's eyes
So though they might try, we still hip to hidden motives
slain for me
Now im baptized by the blood
I ain't talking gang activity
But I be posted up
This a different type of track I'm passing out
It's spoken love
Give me the cue
Skip the introduction
Proceed the lip function
The junction get rushed by some grimy people busting weed
Splatter your melons like
Back at home bombarded with fornication
While shells drop in the halls of education
The black voice ain't BLM
And BLM taken over by antifa and them
keeping track
I’m DQ’d like the lost runner
Verse 3:
Now I got you twerking, you can listen (time to listen)
Paused the 9-5 to give you me that’s hidden
and a club,I'm leaving tracks on the white rug
Punk tried to rif and he met double-live slugs
I ain't the nigger to step to
I'm catching bodies and the next one
kill me I'm energy shh
That 6 6 6 been after me
But I move to fast, black sage of six paths
NAH NAH NAH NAH NAHH
Im that nigga from the tree
Hidden
a bad cop
You feel me fam? The devil's got a plan
That's why Farrakhan formed a Million Man up in Washington
The Hidden Hand even planned this man
lip,ghostwriting little prick
Lip sync your script, shit, I've been killing this shit
While this dick was having a sit down
I've been smashing out my tracks
Up above the highest testaments
Down below the wooden floor
There's a gutted room, pitch black at noon
Beneath a hidden door
Deep within you'll
baggin two zip, smackin two crips with a black in my lips
Spittin facts out the ash of a wood tip
Coughin up 16 new hits, thrivin on a vibe only i can rip
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