| Dark as the midnight hour or bright as the mornin' sun
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| Give a fuck about your complexion, I know what the Germans done
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| Sneak (dissin')
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| Sneak me through the back window, I’m a good field nigga
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| I made a flower for you outta cotton just to chill with you
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| You know I’d go the distance, you know I’m ten toes down
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| Even if master listenin', cover your ears, he 'bout to mention
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| Dark as the midnight hour, I’m bright as the mornin' Sun
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| Brown skinned, but your blue eyes tell me your mama can’t run
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| Sneak (dissin')
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| Sneak me through the back window, I’m a good field nigga
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| I made a flower for you outta cotton just to chill with you
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| You know I’d go the distance, you know I’m ten toes down
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| Even if master’s listenin', I got the world’s attention
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| So I’mma say somethin' that’s vital and critical for survival
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| Of mankind, if he lyin', color should never rival
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| Beauty is what you make it, I used to be so mistaken
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| By different shades of faces
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| Then wit told me, «You're womanless, woman love the creation»
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| It all came from God then you was my confirmation
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| I came to where you reside
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| And looked around to see more sights for sore eyes
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| Let the Willie Lynch theory reverse a million times with…
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| You like it, I love it
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| You like it, I love it
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| Let me talk my Stu Scott, ‘scuse me on my 2pac
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| Keep your head up, when did you stop? |
| Love and die
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| Color of your skin, color of your eyes
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| That’s the real blues, baby, like you met Jay’s baby
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| You blew me away, you think more beauty in blue green and grey
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| All my Solomon up north, 12 years a slave
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| 12 years of age, thinkin' my shade too dark
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| I love myself, I no longer need Cupid
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| And forcin' my dark side like a young George Lucas
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| Light don’t mean you smart, bein' dark don’t make you stupid
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| And frame of mind for them bustas, ain’t talkin' «Woohah!»
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| Need a paradox for the pair of dots they tutored
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| Like two ties, L-L, you lose two times
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| If you don’t see you beautiful in your complexion
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| It ain’t complex to put it in context
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| Find the air beneath the kite, that’s the context
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| Yeah, baby, I’m conscious, ain’t no contest
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| If you like it, I love it, all your earth tones been blessed
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| Ain’t no stress, jigga boos wanna be
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| I ain’t talkin' Jay, I ain’t talkin' Bey
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| I’m talkin' days we got school watchin' movie screens
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| And spike yourself esteem
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| The new James Bond gon' be black as me
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| Black as brown, hazelnut, cinnamon, black tea
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| And it’s all beautiful to me
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| Call your brothers magnificent, call all the sisters queens
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| We all on the same team, blues and pirus, no colors ain’t a thing
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| Barefoot babies with no cares
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| Teenage gun toters that don’t play fair, should I get out the car?
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| I don’t see Compton, I see something much worse
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| The land of the landmines, the hell that’s on earth |