[Intro: Malcolm X]
See, you’ve been so far away from this, if your husband sits, reads or studies, he could be reading beside you studying something serious, you think he’s ignoring you, but if he puts down his book, and both of you watching TV together, that’s make you happy doesn’t it?
[Verse 1: Dom Kennedy]
Come fuck with a nigga that's bout' some
When I say nigga that's, the Makaveli version
Keep new Pirelli swerving
And I've been doing this too long, to never have a house in my government name
Nice frame baby, oh so inspiring
My life is getting too out
I'm coming down in 61', 62's, 56', what is this
From down Florence Ave to Desoto
When I was quarterback I wore ocho
Might never wear it twice in a photo
When you that great you don't see a need to showboat
Rest In Peace Kid Cali Oso
Rap took me places that a GED don't
Live from Webster Hall in the APC coat
Me and Big Mike in the party, blowing smoke
In 2006 he had to keep that thing close
I had a big bottle of Goose and a fresh fitted
Now start the Porsche up for me baby, let's get it
I'm too faded to drive home, so you on
But don't leave me here alone
In need of your company, so come stunt with me
Moët on Moët, I ain't studderin'
To tell the truth, money ain't nothing but a thing
Get her moist until she's puddling
Ended up cuddling
Fat Burger on deck with the onion rings
When we hit the 50 yard line, we gon' run a screen
Whoever in the way getting washed up
This for my white girls shop at Cost Plus
And my black girls that done lost touch
With that inner Betty Shabazz
Out here streaming that trash
Should be playing some Jazz
Shit, just imagine
Me and Thelonius' Mac on Pro Tools X
But you already knows who's next
That boy HB finna bless you
Keep sleeping on me, nigga rest up
[Verse 2: Hit Boy]
I'm who they believe to be the kingpin
Depending on how good that thing is
I might take her on a trip to Kingston
Every year we making history
Exit the 110, imperial fishery
Run me the combo with the shrimp
Nothing like these niggas, you can see it my lips
You wanna leave a man for me, I can see it in her lips
Realer than you favorite rapper, you can see that in my pics
In my 76' blasting oldies
On the way to scoop the homies
Fucking up, open the ceremony
Get you that blue and yellow, Pasadena Ponies
High off life, pop a xil
Free my nigga Chilly Chill
Fronto Leaf in my ashtray
Half-A-Mil click, slick like a finger wave
And I'm young MJ with the finger tape, yeah, yeah
Smooth criminal, fuck you and your subliminals
Really it ain't no stopping me
They want X's over my happy faces
Vintage Davanti, 'cause I make the hardest beats
And a whole lotta cheese, damn
Yeah, we went from rags to riches
6'4 rags with switches
2 and 3 bags for my bitches
(?) hits sacks, no clearance
Sample of the pussy, get the clearance
Diamonds look like water, they the clearest
Drippin' on them everywhere I walk
It ain't about cash I can't take the call
87 on my jersey, like we playing ball
OG double on my line, he gone play it off
And I'm like my main down
Like I'm Price T The Pimp
But for now just order more ice to the VIP
Probably pull of in the icey whips
Valet tenant that’s what I do for a living
Not much I just get it how I live
[Verse 3: Dom Kennedy]
Got my first name tatted on the ribs, well goddamn
Keep on turning me and you gone see astronomy
Our cars ain’t economy, so them raps ain’t harming me
We heaven sent to replace those lies
With some real niggas quotes to you, 8 times 5
I be airing out beats
Oh you niggas can’t speak
Hit-Boy make the beats
I make sure we gone eat
Brown table at Katana’s, 8 deep
Shit is getting to good, I can’t sleep
No occasion, we just want to eat amazing
I might bring the Cristal with me on stage, shit
Just to post up
You could probably smell Givenchy in the close up
[Outro: Tag]
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