| Check it out. |
| Call him «Lil' Black Tarzan»
|
| Swing boy, sing not «Mommy» but «Amen»
|
| Hurry up, dress up, clean shirt, go
|
| Button up. |
| ShowTime. |
| Wait, shine your shoe off
|
| Bring it back. |
| God don’t love nappy hair
|
| My shit broke the pick, though. |
| Mama, I ain’t happy here
|
| See, I be in the zone and can’t remember quotes
|
| To Paul, David, and Matthew. |
| I just woke
|
| Right before the missionary came
|
| To target my back for visionary gain
|
| You see, I was missing when they came
|
| The snake in the grass root hissing at a dame like
|
| Everybody wanna talk my blues. |
| Can’t
|
| Walk my shoes, my pretty black future
|
| Got grey and I bottle up hate, say
|
| «Jesús new to the game. |
| Y ou loser»
|
| Oh yeah I rock Circas, but no, I ain’t no skater
|
| I see you cop Jordans but no, you ain’t no player (nah)
|
| For me and what I do is mine, define major
|
| Never was a thug, but hon, I stay laser
|
| Dabble in some good rock—yes, I love hip hop
|
| For each to his own—I zone to where the beat stop
|
| Yes, I am a black man living within a white world
|
| I got my education, but no, don’t date no white girls
|
| Never said I wouldn’t, but only for right reasons
|
| Easy to get caught up and then it’s hunting season
|
| Get you in a setup and trying to take your freedom
|
| Ass ain’t getting me down—gimme Lakisha
|
| Pretty Black Future—winners are called losers
|
| But we still striving against those who use us
|
| We still define ourselves by our abusers
|
| Quit doing that shit—we'll reach heaven sooner
|
| Yeah. |
| My money, my plight, my fight, my life, my mics, my shit, my future
|
| My money, my plight, my fight, my rights—take that from me and I’ll shoot ya
|
| Yeah. |
| And paint a pretty black tomorrow
|
| With fear and a chokehold, move immortal
|
| Hurry up—no huddle
|
| My team first-down-bound—no time to cuddle (uh uh)
|
| Yeah. |
| So it’s goodbye to love now
|
| Hello, mean-mug frown—this is how we get down
|
| Yeah. |
| So it’s goodbye to love now
|
| Hello, mean-mug frown—this is how we get down
|
| So how does it feel to be one of the beautiful?
|
| How does it feel to be one of the beautiful?
|
| So, uh, Jesse Jackson we need some real action
|
| Let’s move these buffoons—fuck the jive turkey taxes
|
| I say it. |
| Yo. |
| Yes freedom. |
| Yes land
|
| No warmonger president—feed Sudan
|
| And yes, we speak change but don’t do a damn thing
|
| Everyday be the same—bullshit still remains
|
| Remain my name—be not Marco Polo
|
| Discover new water. |
| True I’m Marcus—I flow though
|
| Eh. |
| Uh. |
| I do it for the pretty black
|
| Yeah, sir. |
| I do it for the future
|
| Uh. |
| Yeah. |
| I do it for the pretty black
|
| Come on. |
| Yeah. |
| I do it for the future |