Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Black Ego, artist - Digable Planets. Album song Blowout Comb, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 17.10.1994
Record label: Capitol
Song language: English
Black Ego |
(All right boy, ah man |
Give you your rights, here we go again |
You have the right to remain silent |
Hey Ish what’s goin' on? |
Chill, chill it’s cool |
Give up the right to remain silent |
Anything you say can and will be used against you |
Whatever man, whatever |
Do you understand each of these rights I’ve explained to you? |
Oh, like I ever had rights, kid |
Do you wish to give up the right to remain silent? |
Hell yeah) |
So now let’s let into in my pocket pack |
Pummel and I epic black ethic lack, I walk again |
You were shade gray, come display |
Mazes in black fire in the west |
Shit is shakin' it’s fly |
I’m in lookies when I pushin' vinyl time |
Up the forts, where I’m caught |
And my thought to shakin' up a few loose |
Now I let my cause shoo KRS one |
'Cause we fade in and out, are you swingin' or coming? |
I’m solid on this thought, this ain’t livin' |
It’s heavy every set back, even when I was a shorty |
Now we cross you and your foe, thrice |
Check me in another place space enjoy |
Nothing you could server could ever ace me, boy |
Fat laces I’m out fat and no maybe’s |
That’s right, baby |
That’s right, show you right, all right |
That’s right, show you right, all right |
That’s right, show you right, all right |
I got Harlem on my mind, Darren on my back |
Brooklyn in my blood and butters on the track |
I got insect thoughts, catch the cool ways |
Clouds of purple haze keep me in a daze |
The jazz, the jive, the poetry |
The style, the lingo, the bags of equality |
Many different things tryin' to get to me |
But in a world of hard rock, I keep my humility |
The funkanaut from the kingdom of not |
With galactic sure shot, they can’t, won’t, don’t stop |
Flock to the rhythm I bring |
Sing songs call survival on the Mingus revival |
Scored the bass hit with my bugged out clique |
It’s doodlebugm give me love for a visual script |
Sip the groove juice, it’s kinda rough |
Sevens never bluff, I had enough, eleven |
That’s right, show you right, all right |
That’s right, show you right, all right |
That’s right, show you right, all right |
In the east I rose, froze in the pose |
Of a land diseased, flows that coolest summer breeze |
Nikki did Kevin braids, we got four in the 'Lac |
As we swoop at Warp Seven, holler don’t crowd cats |
'Cause look corpie is the color and butter he do it low |
All you hear is poppers and rubber I’m sayin', oh |
Man we keep it poppin' on hot day shit |
I got the fish eggs droppin' any block you dip |
And I dazzle that mood with the cool out fool |
Easin' semi-swerve to the curb like the do |
I’m fro, blow, you got that right |
Groove with soul and I’m still spinnin' |
Cross 110 and indicate 'em somethin' else |
Blackest space, deepest sea |
My shit’s on natural high |
The man can’t put no thing on me |
So dig me when my mind stretch out, it’s astro black |
Time reachin' end to end, nappy afro blue |
We’d swoop and fight in, out the corners |
Do my thang like you be with a nigga |
That’s right, show you right, all right |
That’s right, show you right, all right |
That’s right, show you right, all right |