niggas talkin shit
but bull, eye’ll predict the future;
you aint gon get yo bitch back.
ny took it from tha d??/ well now they gon give that shit back.
don’t get yo shit smacked.
bi now???// you gon get yo shit splat.
roqq a fella til he bleek then hit him with the mac.
we all the way upp!!!
you niggas just downloadin.
he tryna bee us!!!!
you niggas must not know him.
so, why when puff cum around this nigga get ghost then???//
tell them about the God.
niggas know hov get no spins.
we all the way uppp!!!!!!!
turn this bitch to eleven.
i got mi eye on you snakes
bi mi thigh is the seven.
you tryna play us???//
i AM the most high,
that’s why you scared of me.
get hit from both sides big and pac waitin on you in heaven.
[all the way upp remix response]
conversations with no-one.
if you wanna hear wat he said that got me amped anyway, go find that shit on ya own.
ain’t shit pretty.
download | conversations with no-one
bi now, the secret is out… i AM a tiny little bit of a racist butt uhhhhhh…. i want you to hear me out and understand it’s not all mi fault.
it always ends up being a white and black issue because it’s easily most identifiable butttt uhhhhhhhhhhhh…. the minorities [or the majorities, as they’ve recently flipped] are the real problem.
there’s a youth told story i remember about the americains, living in sin and nothingness, banished away to the land of cain, hidden in the dark and away from God’s watchful eye.
there’s also another youth told story i remember more specifically about man’s encounter with these people of cain.
i dont wanna go to mexico no moe moe moe…. there’s a big fat baby at the do’ do’ do’… he’ll grab you bi the collar. make you pay a dollar. i don’t wanna go to mexico no moe moe moe.
yesterday i went to the beyoncé concert, or whatever…. of course i had romanticized the idea in mi head repeatedly before hopping on the rail butt uhhhhhhh…. i really don’t know what i AM doing anymore.
the surviving queen has been on tour for just about a month. a month before she went on tour it made news that ‘we the best’ dj khaled had worked out a deal and signed to jayz’s roc nation management. about a week after that, it was announced khaled would bee going on tour with beyoncé as an opening act, and presumably as security to make sure no scrubs try to chat up the queen in her now vulnerable moments.
khaled spent about half an hour playing jayz songs, which needless to say pissed me off buttt uhhhhhhhhha i was surprised to see how agitated everyone else in the stadium got, especially considering how quiet the night had been to that point. the crowd seemed restless and angered that bey still had any dealings with jay and khaled alike. i even overheard many people speaking about the beyoncé cd, and how they thought she was breaking up with him then…. i know i did.
i walk into the bodega at the end of the block and see a fine ass lil shortie outside licking on an strawberry icecream cone. i do everything short of putting mi hands on her butt uhhhhhh.. got damn i want it bad.
she give me all the love she got with just the flick of her eyelashes and does an ill ass move with her lips. before i forget why i came up here, i grab mi dick in response and walk into the store, returning with a bag of cheddar and cream ruffles and a pack a now & laters for shortie; since i know she good with the action.
she graciously accepts mi gift and exchanges me her name and number for it. the wheels are already in motion, i AM gonna see her later tonight without a doubt. i lazily walk off giving her that same eye action back and run into mi padnahh up the block. this one of mi boons buttt uhhhhhhh… homie seem off his one today.
“wuddup??/” i ask, not really wanting to hear the answer.
“you tryna buy some j’s??/”
not really but i ask anyway, “wat size??/”
“shit, they elevens… what size you wear?//”
i look him up and down again, and can tell he aint just tryna sell me a pair of shoes, homie look badd lowkey, he need the money and, i AM tryna see shortie again later tonight.
“i wear eleven.. eleven and a half.. let me see them hoes…”
“they back at the crib,” he points down the block the other way. “them bitches clean doe, you gonna fuck with em. roll back with me, i’ll smoke you out too for fuckin with me.”
i tip the last of the ruffles to mi mouth and agree.. “we out.”
people act like mike wasn’t motown to the core. like berry gordy wasn’t a real person. like marvin gaye died for nothing…. i was born in the late eighties, you only know these stories one way.
i been feelin this way for a while butt uhhhhhh… i never know who to tell butttt uhhhhhhhhhh…. i hate it when people particularly from michigan stan for jayz and beyoncé. tupac used to be in the thumb of the mitten all the time, showing love, then he goes to new york and ends up shot and eventually dead. aaliyah was from detroit, heaven sent, she started messing around with them new york niggas, jayz and dame, and then she end up dead too … i hate that shit &&& ever since pac died jay been a “god” in rap and ever since aaliyah died beyoncé has been the undisputed queen of rnb butttt uhhhhhhhhhh… what has michigan gotten??// we started out as motown music and vehicle capital of the world. they took our music. they shut down our shops. steal our jobs. make fun of our education. promote gang violence and drugs to our children. kill at will. &&&& all some of y’all have to say is, ‘they’re rich’ let em do what they want!!!’ he stole that money. they poisoning you and your children. you buying they album.lol! he confessing!! they talking about they’re gonna live forever and you’re about to die…. ain’t no fuckin game.
if you only knew some of the beautiful things aaliyah wished to do in michigan!!! and she wanted mi help!!!!
ain’t shit pretty.