Look at momma, she's in the kitchen She's swinging her hips and dipping the chicken in flour She got the music, it's bumpin' I smell the food in the oven while I two step in the shower A well-balanced potato salad and hot sauce Collard greens, fried catfish and Lima beans Engrained in your brain without a meme Like it's a precinct burning up on the screen
The operation is flagrant till reparations, we take 'em And we been patiently waiting and for cake we be scraping until it's late in the a.m. When you sick of the mayhem, you demonstrate till they pay 'em Your body swaying, you listen what I'm saying Don't want that AK-K-K commence to spraying OG Mind Freak, you cannot enslave 'em And if the tables ever turn, you know nothing can save him The sensation burning like Louisiana Cajun The faint aroma somebody is blazing to bring the day in Big bro on his way in
Never forget where you started 'Cause that could be where you end From a faraway land, we were departed Tryna find where we began Momma said there was a code That we all should abide by Big man said there was a code By which we should live and we should die by
Beat shaking like flour in paper bags See 'em saluting and recruiting and waving flags Spice in the hot sauce, crispy on the chicken The screen door slamming and the young boy crippin' Momma when she dancin', your uncle when he trippin' The spirit of Stevie Wonder when Superstition was written I'm the first bop when you walk into the party I'm the Chris Rock when you snapping' on somebody I'm the ingenuity, the mental acuity Duke Ellington dexterity, I'm truly a rarity I'm the sound of Miles Davis, it's impossible to bury me The slow pimp walk, it's impossible to hurry me The red cup, brown liquor, spades all night Shower cap, house slippers, braids just right Feeling when that itch in ya weave is relieved I'm your taste buds biting on the sunflower seeds
Only crossover I support is Kyrie W.E.B. mentality I'm the Biz goin' off, Diana, I'm the boss Or you could say Ross, I'm Pirelli's with the gloss I'm the underground Harriet, the swing low chariot Backyard smoker, fried okra and asparagus The look in the eyes of someone who can relate I'm the knowing that it's love and couldn't possibly be hate I'm the prayer of a momma want her son to walk straight I'm the prisoner released when he walking out the gate, I'm Black I'm Black I'm Black I'm Black I'm Black
[?]
Black Code Read your Black Code Read your Black Code Read your Black Code It's for everybody Read your Black Code Read your Black Code Read your Black Code Read your Black Code It's for everybody Read your Black Code Read your Black CodeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
