My shit hair-burning, you not even a lil’ tan
A master plan to control the mind of a black man
It's fucking immaculate, the way your daughter smacking dicks
Intense with eviction of syllables mixed with precision in minutes
Even though shit got intense
A coward dies a thousand deaths
Like the man in black but the voice stays golden
You ain't gettin' dough, don't even come around them
In the black neighborhoods, man we had driven fast,
Homie popped up with about twenty bags and
Haters eyes gettin' wide like bench seats
Its hard for a black man on the streets
Planet earth intense skills fulfills
Now, nigga, it’s the prince
It's all too black for me to blame it on the man
That was six years ago, whips come from japan
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