| Yeah, let the haters hate
|
| Got a death wish, probably live 'til I’m 88
|
| Grey dreadlocks and can’t see straight
|
| Won’t spit a hot 16 but got a mean 8
|
| Clean slate, new label, new chain still
|
| Your favorite rapper ODing on his pain pills
|
| You motherfuckers can’t eat what you can’t kill
|
| Seventh level of heaven where the saints chill
|
| Spilling holy water filling up the gutter lane
|
| Blasphemy you calling out the God by any other name
|
| I’m Clubber Lang with a Hogan 'stache
|
| I’m Mr. Pink making moves with the stolen cash
|
| Buy the bar in South Dakota then I dip out
|
| Rolling with a fly native chick, she pull my dick out
|
| Sippin on a thick stout, shitting on the IPAs
|
| My niggas know I lived the dream even if I die today
|
| When raps come off the brain
|
| It’s like I’m on promethazine
|
| Never leaning though because I’m gon to
|
| Bring the pain like Method Man
|
| Working out up in the rain
|
| Since back then with kool aid stains
|
| But these kool aid stain these days is very hard to clean
|
| Brothers is getting slain so I’m dying to live
|
| Over here trying to complain about the flaws in my gift
|
| You know my raps are present, the old sold is very pleasant
|
| Saying Time Is Money? |
| Well Honey my time is well spent
|
| No Rollie but I feel like I’m straight ballin
|
| Feel like I’m on top, impossible for me to fall in
|
| But listen you know anything can happen at this moment
|
| From the souls that get took’n from the hearts that get broken
|
| To the night into the morning you know I got to shine
|
| If you can’t read these lines you better read between the lines
|
| Mama taught me men should not gossip but count profit
|
| Your gift makes your stocks high just like sock stockings
|
| The last prophet, young insane knowledge
|
| Never went to college my lineage is the logic
|
| Street-driven, far from a dreamer I strap my team up
|
| Never let these crackers attack you blanco suprema
|
| B.A.D is the name, searching for fame? |
| No
|
| Nat Turner gang, you Jamie Fox in Django
|
| Strictly for the movie in fact, yeah they studied me
|
| My sports got a lot of dress grabbing on them double Ds
|
| Walk the streets of LA where they tell them lies of money getting
|
| Money getting yeah but most the money getten’s funny getten
|
| Hating at a high mars at a low, watch him
|
| I ain’t voting for none of these motherfucking Mayors down in Gotham
|
| I still get fresher than most, teaching the young
|
| Your history ain’t shit, what you learn at school got you dumb
|
| Other than science and math, some of that is tainted, ain’t it?
|
| We lost our native language and most of it had been painted
|
| On walls and pyramid halls, in scrolls that still exist
|
| Way older than that shit, ain’t that a bitch?
|
| Maxin out on my power, I’m tryna line up with stars
|
| Yeah, I could have did some gang bang shit, but that ain’t god
|
| Most of my killers need help and knowledge of self to stop em
|
| Before they ride around with that chopper and police chop em
|
| Our destiny is king and Queen, literally
|
| Ain’t no shit you just say on some black power synergy
|
| Little wall lucky, peep the scene and I’ma warn ya
|
| Before these faggots swarm ya, I be in your corner
|
| Yeah they like Harry and Tubman moving the crowd
|
| Now watch 'em sellout that bourgeois nigga, say I’m too loud |