Music Video

Lyrics

Well, I got a new kinda square dance rap Gon' talk smack, flash my gat I'm finna spit and hold my dick And heat shit up like a thermostat Grab your partner by the chaps Give your partner a pimp-slap To symbolize the ghetto trap Step to the right, give three claps Kids jam-packed in tenement shacks Ain't shit cookin' on the stove but crack This is the bat this hell begat 'Cause bosses are kleptomaniacs Two by two promenade Duck from a B1 bomber raid Ain't 'bout the plans Osama made Banks gettin' paid off petrol trade Circle eight, do-si-do How much cash could a o-z grow 'Til all are fed and all have beds? My skin is Black, my star is red FBI come runnin' outside Which one of us finna die tonight? Is we finna fight over crumbs to bite Or make a whole motherfuckin' world ignite? Everybody throw them blows Right upside your partner's nose By now you've got bloody clothes Crabs in the barrel, so the story goes Think of all their savage acts Grabbin' scratch from average cats Bureaucrats with strings attached Walk in place, light the match Two by two promenade Duck from a B1 bomber raid Ain't 'bout the plans Osama made Banks getting paid of petrol trade Circle eight, do-si-do How much cash could a o-z grow 'Til all are fed and all have beds? My skin is Black, my star is red Everybody get down low 'Bout the level of your toes These dance moves we usually do Are not the ones that we have chose Grab on to that beat and grind Try your best to stay alive We can't run, we can't hide Might as well just stay and fight Two by two promenade Duck from a B1 bomber raid Ain't bout' the plans Osama made Banks getting paid off petrol trade Circle eight, do-si-do How much cash could a o-z grow 'Til all are fed and all have beds? My skin is Black, my star is red
Writer(s): Boots Riley, Tom Morello, Raymond Lawrence Riley Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out