Nothing to Declare

[Intro: Moor Mother]

Yo (Blow, blow, smoke, smoke, atmosphere, here)

Yo, hey, hey, hey, yo, yo, yo

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, hey, ooh

[Verse 1: Moor Mother]

Let me tell you somethin' in your ear

All the hatersexuals wanna be queer

Shoot you if you’re burnin' my ears

(What you even fuckin' doin’ here?)

What you even doing over here?

What you even doing over here?

Don't believe in time, but this is my year (Me, me, mе, me, me, me)

Blow a littlе smoke in the atmosphere

[Chorus: Moor Mother]

Set it like premiere, bring the record back

Set it like the center for the quarterback

So much ass, had to bring it back

Seven hundred bitches give you cardiac

[Verse 2: Moor Mother]

Spit this shit better than Shakespeare (Who the f*** is that?)

You just try to black, well, you can't get here

I'm blue, black, lost in the atmosphere

Call me Shamir Lightyear (That's me)

Bitch, I'm here, well premiere (Ta-da)

(Ta-da, ta-da!)

Tired of the smoke up here

All up in your biosphere (Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, cheese)

(All up in your space, bitch)

I don't believe in time, but it's our year

Blow a little smoke in the atmosphere

[Chorus: Moor Mother]

Set it like premiere, bring the record back

Set it like the center for the quarterback

So much ass, had to bring it back

Seven hundred bitches give you cardiac

[Verse 3: DJ Haram]

Hey (Yo, yo, what you got on my cheesesteak, motherfucker?)

Otherworldly, it look fake (Like)

Sinbad fightin’ snakes, they’re still new to the heartache (Boo-hoo)

Big fish in the icy lake

I just thought I'd call you

Cry until the lie’s true, you always 'bout your crisis

How you a narcissist but righteous?

I've never been a victim (I'm good)

Fuck your nihilist benediction

Blow a little smoke in the atmosphere

Blow a little smoke in the atmosphere

[Bridge: DJ Haram]

[?]

I’m a pisces

Smoke here

Talk nicely

That's wifey

She priceless

Choose wisely

Everybody hot shit

[Chorus: Moor Mother]

Set it like a center for the quarterback

Set it like premiere, bring the record back

So much ass, had to bring it back

Seven hundred bitches [?]

[Outro: Moor Mother]

Rolling up, nothing left to fear, here