In a malcolm x shirt chillin' with the ku klux
I move rock on the block with my glock and thugs
And put together a million march for some gangsta shit
Confrontin every nigga on their typical bullshit
Lip balm she's some nun bitch from st. john
Make nigga turn his rage on
I read about napoleon hill and try to know god
You guys are the reason im on stage and i rock
To the point that he just breaks, snaps, and it's all it takes
Uncle tom's hittin the rock that i'm weighing on scales
Two kids, wide hips, found something in her we didn't see
Rock over london, rock on the paris of the prairie
Let em play with her box, she give the greatest top
Or be on the street corner with a pipe smokin the rock
Fred on his flintstone, cept i make the dead rock
It's like i just hit the lottery, my god
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