Track 11.) old servants (new slaves)
For the occasion, paper planes
Problem is i shine like two mics under heavy strobe lights
We packed together like slaves, simple as nursery rhymes,
My president is black
I promise i'mma call you back
They vaguely decipher my language
Time and time again we're slaves to our crutch
To their backs and attract the black on black
Twista finna get up on the track
The villian’s back and venom black
Quick flipping up sexy back
Wale, more times than not, am not for whom the air waves
And i agree that it's nothing compared to treatment of slaves,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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