Music Video

Black Illuminati (feat. Jadakiss)
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Freddie Gibbs
Freddie Gibbs
Vocals
Andre Robinson
Andre Robinson
Programming
Arianna Reid
Arianna Reid
Programming
Rodney Montreal
Rodney Montreal
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Andre Robinson
Andre Robinson
Songwriter
Arianna Reid
Arianna Reid
Songwriter
Jason Terrance Phillips
Jason Terrance Phillips
Songwriter
Rodney Montreal
Rodney Montreal
Songwriter
Fredrick Tipton
Fredrick Tipton
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Arianna Reid
Arianna Reid
Producer
Kevin “No Credit” Spencer
Mixing Engineer
Thurston "Thurst McGurst" McCrea
Thurston "Thurst McGurst" McCrea
Recording Engineer
Bizness Boi
Bizness Boi
Producer
Fortune
Fortune
Producer

Lyrics

Slammin', used to sleep on the floor with a Kel-Tec Got a bag I can't bag yet because it's still wet Reaper man, I pay him a visit, ain't paid his bills yet Brain hemorrhage, blunt-force trauma, I make him feel that I wrap and seal that Sent out the bricks that had the Nike Swoosh stamp, I'm just doin' it for the camp Nigga sold 'em to the plug, now he shoppin' behind my back, uh One thing about that bitch karma, she comin' back If you trappin', keep a strap close Nowadays, this shit became a trend To snake your homies out 'cause everybody backdoor But everybody Black, though I let the fiends catch a bean, used to vomit off the secondhand crack smoke Nigga got that PTSD from testin' the key Gums numb, hope I didn't purchase work from the F-E-Ds 'Cause every time I see the judge, it's like a scary movie Fuck the court, real nigga can't do no jury duty Internet done altered this shit through a different game now I don't rap about dead opps, I let his name die Shame how they blackball Kane, they scratched my name out I pushed it longer than I expected to get my name hot They wanna take me out this game like Sha'Carri Black Illuminati, touch Big Rabbit, streets need a body I got all of them leeches away from 'round me You ain't rich enough to get me hit, pussy, go up the bounty, uh Spend some cheese, bitch, chopper sing, bitch Brew him up, had him huggin' them EMTs, bitch Turn the witness to Stevie Wonder, ho, you ain't seen shit Youngins on a mando' slide, this shit routine, bitch Delta 88 with a cool knot in my tube socks Now I push the goons through the boondocks in the coon tops Penthouse in the city, my bops givin' me rooftop Told 'em free my nigga G-Wee, ho, let the roots out You feel my energy, they gon' remember me Ain't never had a friend like me, your enemy my enemy Lambo crashed the whip and got plates in both shoulders If he didn't live through that accident, this shit could've been over, yeah They wanna take me out this game like Sha'Carri Black Illuminati, afghan doggy straight off the poppy I ain't trust him, had to dust him like Christopher Moltisanti And it hurt my heart to hurt you, but nigga, streets need a body, yeah I don't house these hoes, bitch, get a hobby She ain't workin', then you ain't got a wifey, you got a Tommy, yeah I got all of them leeches away from 'round me Bulletproof the Escalade, I got iron like Robert Downey, nigga, yeah Fuck you lil' niggas (uh) (Triple-S exercise) Kane Kiss, ha-ha It's what we do, nigga I don't do the Chrome Heart, I just do the home art You can catch a headshot or you can catch a dome dart Go ahead and put the kids to sleep, this the grown part 'Fore we knew what Billboard was, we had our own chart Strapped and they pull the car over, you take your own charge (take that) I ain't never worked for nobody, I sold my own heart (that's right) Smoke a fat one in the back right in my own yard Playin' dominoes with my man, he in the boneyard Now I can pay for the jet right on my own card Niggas tryna go man on me, man, it's on, God Hand-to-hand with it, I ain't never played the phone, God Calisthenics and cardio, just tryna tone, God (that's it) Your man got the semi, but he ain't poppin' My youngin got the bricks in the hemi, and he ain't stoppin' Lil' extra in the beginning to get him coppin' (uh-huh) He ain't worried, 'cause if they get him, I get him Cochran (I got him) He know not to fuck with them bitches, they get him hot then (he know) Stay low, finish the work, he get a drop Benz (yeah) They just wanna be around money, but they are not friends (nah) Until you fall back from 'em, that's where the plot ends (yeah) I've been reppin' the Apple since it was rotten (mmh) When you a golden, you can never be forgotten (never) They gotta ram it, you don't ever let the cops in (never) I can have your funeral in the top ten (woo) A lot of niggas are nice, but they are not him (Jada) It's really nothing that you can do to stop him (hater) Call him the God MC just like Rakim (woo) And he done took some L's, but yeah, he got wins Motherfucker
Writer(s): Freddie Gibbs, Andre Robinson, Jason Terrance Phillips, Arianna Reid, Rodney Montreal Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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