| Black man is a colloquial term
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| I’m in that voting booth soaked in the Oreo germ, I’m
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| Called to renounce my poetry publically
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| From the stapled stomach of an unfaithful lummox
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| Now I rap for bankers, that’s why I’m exacting bangers
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| My new flaccid wang is always casting flavor
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| Is always dipped in frosting
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| I died prematurely before I got to equip my offspring
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| Beware of the swamp thing
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| Look at my eyes and really know that there are no answers
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| So go ahead and mix that coca with the Arm & Hammer
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| The knowledge of self was all it took to arm the Panthers
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| They gave the same thing to me and I got a charming stammer
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| That’s them dark thoughts shooting through the enamel
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| Tuning the piano, looking at you like «What meds?»
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| When parts of who you are often butt heads
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| You can’t build a cut thread without bloodshed
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| You can’t relate to your child cause your mind is adrift
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| How many times could you hide your lies in a gift?
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| You know cowardice, you feel the power shift
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| As your mind shatters your ego to a thousand bits
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| Ah
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| Yeah
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| Ah
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| Yeah
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| Hear me out
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| One time
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| It’s like this
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| Ah
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| The old saying goes, «an eye for an eye»
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| But it plays out like «the lead for the feed»
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| The cookie face king chief’s ‘nna bleed
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| In the stadium and it’s me vs. me
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| The old saying goes, «an eye for an eye»
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| But it plays out like «the lead for the feed»
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| The weapons system’s always eager to please
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| Get me
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| Americanism as a serial murder
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| No empirical data just a theoretical merger
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| Between the giants of science and financial mechanisms
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| Admit guilt to get milked with all the sentenced women
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| Outside the fire-breathing Orwellian dynamo
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| And spitting out designer clothes for quaint truisms and hind rhyming flows
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| I don’t have or wear a dress on, vagina role
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| But I can spit a verse for the Bible tho like «hi, bye bye bo»
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| It’s me vs. me
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| That’s right, it’s all me
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| Ch’eah!
|
| The old saying goes, «an eye for an eye»
|
| But it plays out like «the lead for the feed»
|
| The cookie face king chief’s ‘nna bleed
|
| In the stadium and it’s me vs. me
|
| The old saying goes, «an eye for an eye»
|
| But it plays out like «the lead for the feed»
|
| The cookie face king chief’s ‘nna bleed
|
| In the stadium and it’s me vs. me
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| Your personality is torn from your face
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| For a power-hungry junky who was born on the base
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| Getting sworn into office to stand up to the scorn of our caucus
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| And distort the importance of a race
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| Plead on my knees to the Julius Caesar
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| For the begging for reprieve from my Sudanese kibutz
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| It’s the water got lead in it, the children they be breathing soot
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| The Founding Fathers, they’re the esteemed thieves and crooks |