| Yeah, Freedom of Speech
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| Somethin' I gotta say to my black women
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| Matter fact, all the, all the race of women right now
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| Goin' through it with they man, holdin' them down
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| Knowhatimsayin', word up
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| Yo, I know you tired of them same ol' thugs
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| I know you tired of them same ol' thugs
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| I know you tired of them same ol' thugs
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| It be them same ol' faces, in them same ol' clubs
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| With them same ol' drinks, and them same ol' drugs
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| That kick the same ol' game, just to claim your love
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| I know you tired of them same ol' thugs
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| I know you tired of them same ol' thugs
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| Spiritual girl, born in the material world
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| Think she’d hear wisdom, instead of some pearls
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| Rose petal drop, he loves me, he loves me not
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| Sittin' in the Benz drop-top, a traffic cop
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| Tried to talk to her, like his game was hot
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| She drove off, left him standin' there with dust to cough
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| Miss New York, intelligent, loved to talk
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| She could hold a conversation with conscious thoughts
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| Delicate was her heart, plus her touch is soft
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| She don’t care about a diamond ring, or what it’s cost
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| She took a lost, last time, a nigga chain was floss
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| She remind of me of Diana Ross, brown and short
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| Excuse me, you dropped your passport, inside of the court
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| I could tell she was feelin' me, but playin' it off
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| I’m a lawyer on the third floor, I seen you before
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| Matter fact, I traced it back, it was up in The Source
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| I gotta go, here’s my card, hope you need a divorce
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| I lit a cigarette, and laughed, and preceded to walk
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| The second time I’ve seen her, it was up in Club Cheetah’s
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| Like Solomon and Queen Ashibah, but I be cheaper
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| Watched her before I greet her, she kept dissin' all the fake thugs trynna meet
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| her
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| Blowin' they reefer, askin' her to write down they cell phone and beeper
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| From here I can read her, but damn, she is a diva
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| A primadonna, might be an anaconda
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| I crept up from behind her, tapped the shoulder
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| She turned around, noticed it’s me, played me closer
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| Sippin' on a cold Corona, this ain’t a place for an older
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| Mature like woman, who stay sober, we left before the party’s over
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| I know a better place to chill and build about our black culture… word up |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Same ol' Thugs , by - Hell Razah. Song from the album Sunz of Man Presents: Freedom of Speech, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп