Сайт фанатов группы «КуБа»

Skin is, skin, is
Skin black, my skin is black
My, black, my skin is yellow

Light nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga
Rich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga
Still nigga, still nigga
I like that second one
Light nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga
Rich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga
Still nigga, still nigga

O.J. like, “I’m not black, I’m O.J.”
… Okay
House nigga, don’t fuck with me
I’m a field nigga with shined cutlery
Gold-plated quarters where the butlers be
I’mma play the corners where the hustlers be
I told him, “Please don’t die over the neighborhood
That your mama renting
Take your drug money and buy the neighborhood
That’s how you rinse it”
I bought every V12 engine
Wish I could take it back to the beginning
I could’ve bought a place in Dumbo before it was Dumbo
For like 2 million
That same building today is worth 25 million
Guess how I’m feeling? Dumbo

Light nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga
Rich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga
Still nigga, still nigga
Light nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga
Rich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga
Still nigga, still nigga

You wanna know what’s more important
Than throwing away money at a strip club? Credit
You ever wonder why Jewish people
Own all the property in America? This how they did it
Financial freedom my only hope
Fuck living rich and dying broke
I bought some artwork for 1 million
2 years later, that shit worth 2 million
Few years later, that shit worth 8 million
I can’t wait to give this shit to my children
Y’all think it’s bougie, I’m like, it’s fine
But I’m trying to give you a million dollars worth of game for $9.99
I turned that 2 to a 4, 4 into an 8
I turned my life into a nice first week release date
Y’all out here still taking advances, huh?
Me and my niggas taking real chances, uh
Y’all on the Gram holding money to your ear
There’s a disconnect, we don’t call that money over here, yeah

Light nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga
Rich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga
Still nigga, still nigga
Light nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga
Rich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga
Still nigga, still nigga

Ready for it
I’m ready for it
Yeah
Ah

East-side nigga
With that “[?] saw”
Talking about that “he saw” nigga
With that “we saw” nigga
With that “he saw”
God dance, uh
Your eyes speak the truth with everything else, stars
They pretend we can but the vibes don’t fly

I survived reading guys like you
I’m surprised y’all think you can disguise y’all truths
I seen eyes wide as they about to shoot
You can be a hairpin off and you can trigger your roots
I wave to these haters, don’t give me dap
You know the world can see how phony you act, bruh
Y’all body language is all remedial
How could you see the difference between you and I
My crash course was much tougher
Around friends who kill they friends then hug their friends’ mothers
And show up at the funeral, complete with blank stares
Invisible ink, I had to read things that wasn’t there
Memories may sneak down my cheek
But I could see a side eye in my sleep

Ready for it, deep breath, fill up the void
Eyes open them up, check out the cords
Still stinging from tears, they try to see you
I’m ready for earth, ready for real
Solipsistic admit it, I see you there
So it seems, so you seem
I can’t tell if you’re image or are just the flare
In my dreams, in my dreams

I sat down with Prince, eye to eye
He told me his wishes before he died
Now, Londell McMillan, he must be color blind
They only see green from them purple eyes
They eyes hide, they eyes high
My eyes wide shut to all the lies
These industry niggas, they always been fishy
But ain’t no Biggie, no lazy eye, huh
This guy had ‘Slave’ on his face
You think he wanted the masters with his masters?
You greedy bastards sold tickets to walk through his house
I’m surprised you ain’t auction off the casket
Don’t big bro me, don’t big homie
I’ve seen pure admiration become rivals
I’ve been to Paris at least two times
I’ve seen the Eiffel, I’ve seen a eye full

Ready for it, deep breath, fill up the void
Eyes open them up, check out the cords
Still stinging from tears, they try to see you
I’m ready for earth, ready for real
Solipsistic admit it, I see you there
So it seems, so you seem
I can’t tell if you’re image or are just the flare
In my dreams, in my dreams

I’ve been out of touch for a couple years
I’ve been ready for this for real
Hoping I can touch what I see
Cause I’ve been ready for you, for real

He saw a nigga
With that “[?] saw”
Talking about that “he saw” nigga
With that “we saw” nigga
With that “he saw”
God dance, uh
Your eyes speak the truth with everything else, stars
They pretend we can but the vibes don’t fly
Uh

Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant the livest one representing BK to the fullest
Bastards ducking when Hov be buckin’ chicken heads be cluckin’

Back when ratchet was a ratchet and the vixen was a vixen and Jam Master Jay was alive I was mixing
Cooking coke in the kitchen back when Rodman was a Piston
Mike was losing to Isiah but he soon would get his sixth one
Gave birth to my verbal imagination assume a virtue if you have not
Or better yet here’s a verse from Hamlet
“Lord, we know who we are
Yeah, we know not what we may be”
So maybe I’m the one or maybe I’m crazy
I’m from Marcy houses where the boys die by the thousand
Back when Pam was on Martin yeah that’s where it all started
When Denzel was blottin’ carpet, I’ll pack a nine millimeter when Slick Rick made Mona Lisa
When Lisa Bonet was Beyoncé of her day, I had divas ya’ll
Think I just popped up in this bitch like a fetus? Nah
Pregnant pause, give you some second thoughts
There’s room on the bandwagon, don’t abort
Marcy me

Marcy me
Streets is my artery, the vein of my existence
I’m the Gotham City heartbeat
I started in lobbies now, probably with Saudis
Sufi to the goofies I could probably speak Farsi
That’s poetry read a coca leaf from my past
Came through the bushes smelling like roses I need a trophy just for that
Old Brooklyn not this new shit, shift feel like a spoof
Fat laces in your shoe I’m talking busting off the roof
Hold a uzi vertical, let the thing smoke
Y’all flirting with death I be winking through the scope
Shout out to all the murderers turned murals, plural fuck the Federal Bureau
Shout out to Nostrand Ave. flushing that Myrtle
All the county of kings may your ground stay fertile
Shout out to Big Poppa Daddy Kane heroes
Thus concluding my concerto, Marcy me

Must be in the air, oh can’t walk away I know I know
Just the way I was raised I know I know I know
Oh Marcy, Marcy me just the way I am always gonna be
I ain’t gonna change, no
Marcy, Marcy me just the way I am
(Como as minhas [mãos?] tocando aqui
Eu não canto do mundo, o meu tempo…)

My nigga got on
My nigga got on all white, no socks
My nigga got that cocaina on today
That’s how he feel
Turn my vocal up
That’s how you feel, Emory?
Turn my vocal up some more
Turn my vocal up, Guru!
Turn the music up too

Super Bowl goals
My wife in the crib feedin’ the kids liquid gold
We in a whole different mode
Kid that used to pitch bricks can’t be pigeonholed
I cooked up more chicken when the kitchen closed
Oh, we gon’ reach a billi’ first
I told my wife the spiritual shit really work
Alhamdulillah, I run through ’em all
Hovi’s home, all these phonies come to a halt
All this old talk left me confused
You’d rather be old rich me or new you?
And old niggas, y’all stop actin’ brand new
Like, 2Pac ain’t have a nose ring too, huh

Nobody wins when the family feuds
But my stash can’t fit into Steve Harvey’s suit
I’m clear why I’m here, how about you?
Ain’t no such thing as an ugly billionaire, I’m cute
Mmmmm
Pretty much
If anybody gettin’ handsome checks, it should be us
Fuck rap, crack cocaine
Nah we did that, Black-owned things
Hundred percent, Black-owned champagne
And we merrily merrily eatin’ off these streams
Y’all still drinkin’ Perrier-Jouët, huh
But we ain’t get through to you yet, uh
What’s better than one billionaire? Two (two)
‘Specially if they’re from the same hue as you
Y’all stop me when I stop tellin’ the truth

Hahahaha
I would say I’m the realest nigga rappin’, but that ain’t even a statement
That’s like sayin’ I’m the tallest midget
Wait, that ain’t politically correct
Forget it
Can I get “Amen” from the congregation?
Amen, amen
Can I get a “Amen” from the congregation?
Amen, amen

Yeah, I’ll fuck up a good thing if you let me
Let me alone, Becky
A man that don’t take care his family can’t be rich
I’ll watch Godfather, I miss that whole shit
My consciousness was Michael’s common sense
I missed the karma and that came as a consequence
Niggas bustin’ off through the curtains ’cause she hurtin’
Can’t losin’ the babies ’cause their future’s uncertain
Nobody wins when the family feuds
We all screwed ’cause we never had the tools
I’m tryna fix you
I’m tryna get these niggas with no stripes to be official
Y’all think small, I think Biggie
Y’all whole pass is in danger, ten Mississippi
Al Sharpton in the mirror takin’ selfies
How is him or Pill Cosby s’posed to help me?
Old niggas never accepted me
New niggas is the reason I stopped drinkin’ Dos Equis
We all lose when the family fueds
What’s better than one billionaire? Two
I’ll be damned if I drink some Belvedere while Puff got CÎROC
Y’all need to stop

Higher, higher, higher, higher
Higher, higher, higher, higher
Higher, higher, higher, higher
Higher, higher, higher, higher
Higher, higher
Love me like, love
Higher
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah
Like…. yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah, got Lil Cos up here with me
Yeah, yeah

We stuck in La La Land
Even when we win, we gon’ lose
We got the same fuckin’ flows
I don’t know who is who
We got the same fuckin’ watch
She don’t got time to choose
We stuck in La La Land
We got the same fuckin’ moves

Ya’ll fuck the same fuckin’ chicks
I’m in the skrt with ya—yeah, right
I’m the skrt with ya—cool story
I’m on the ch—’nough of this
Look, I know killers, you no killer, huh?
Bathing Ape maybe not a gorilla, huh?
Glorified seat filler, huh?
Stop walkin’ ’round like ya’ll made “Thriller,” huh?
Fake Dracos all in the videos
We sure, we shoot ’em in my city, though
I don’t post no threats on the internet
I just pose a threat, blame Lenny S for that
I don’t be on the ‘Gram goin’ ham
Givin’ information to the pork, that’s all spam
Please don’t talk about guns
That you ain’t never gon’ use
Ya’ll always tell on ya’ll self
I’m just so fucking confused

Ya’ll stuck in La La Land
Even when we win, we gon’ lose
Ya’ll got the same fuckin’ flows
I don’t know who is who
We got the same fuckin’ watch
She don’t got time to choose
We stuck in La La Land
We got the same fuckin’ moves

Ya’ll niggas still signin’ deals? Still?
After all they done stole, for real?
After what they done to our Lauryn Hill?
And ya’ll niggas is ‘posed to be trill?
That’s real talk when you behind on your taxes
And you pawned all your chains
And they run off with your masters
And took it to Beverly Hills
While we in Calabasas
And my head is scratchin’
‘Cause that shit is backwards
That shit ain’t right
Lucy in his kuma
Lucy ain’t on right
Doug ain’t this tight, so
Fuck what we sellin’
Fuck is we makin’?
‘Cause their grass is greener
‘Cause they always rakin’ in mo’
Nah, nah, nah, nah
Nah, nah