Black Republican (feat. JAY-Z)

I know you can feel the magic, baby

Turn muhfuckin' lights down

Esco, what up?

(What up homie?)

I mean, it's what you expected, ain't it?

Let's go

Turn the music up in the headphones

Yeah, yeah, that's perfect

You gotta take ya time

Make a **** wait on this muhfucker

Make **** mad and shit like

**** usually start rappin' after four bars, ****, go in!

Just start dancin' in this muhfucka

Yeah (Yeah), we just come outta nowhere

I feel like a black republican

Money I got comin' in

Can't turn my back on the hood

I got love for them

Can't clean my act up for good

Too much thug in him

Probably end up back in the hood

Like, "Fuck it then"

Huddlin' over the oven

We was like brothers then

Though you was  nothin'

Other than a son of my mother's friend

We had covenant

Who would've thought the love would end?

Like ice cold album, all good things

Never thought we'd sing the same song that all hoods sing

Thought it was all wood grain

All good brain

We wouldn't bicker like the other fools

Talk good game

Never imagined all the disaster that one good reign could bring

Should blame the game, and I could

It's kill or be killed, how could I refrain?

And forever be in debt, and that's never a good thing

So the pressure for success can put a good strain

On a friend you call best and, yes, it could bring

Out the worst in every person

Even the good and sane

Although we rehearsed it, it just ain't the same

When you put in the game at age sixteen

Then you mix things like cars, jewelry, and Miss Thing

Jealousy, ego, and pride and this brings

It all to a head like a coin, cha-ching

The root of evil strikes again, this could sting

Now the team got beat between the post and the point

This puts the ring in jeopardy indefinitely

I feel like a black republican

Money I got comin' in

Can't turn my back on the hood

I got love for them

Can't clean my act up for good

Too much thug in him

Probably end up back in the hood

I'm like, "Fuck it then"

I feel like a black militant

Takin' over the government

Can't turn my back on the hood

Too much love for them

Can't clean my act up for good

Too much thug in him

Probably end up back in the hood

I'm like, "Fuck it then"

I'm back in the hood

They like, "Hey Nas"

Blowin' on purp, reflectin' on they lives

Couple of fat cats, couple of A.I.'s

Dreamin' of fly shit instead of them gray skies

Gray 5s, haters wishin' our reign dies

Pitch sling pies and **** they sing, "Why?"

Guess they ain't strong enough to handle they jail time

Weak minds keep tryin'

Follow the street signs

I'm standin' on the roof of my buildin'

I'm feelin' the whirlwind of beef, I inhale it

Just like an acrobat ready to hurl myself

Through the hoops of fire

Sippin' 80 proof, bulletproof under my attire

Could it be the forces of darkness

Against hood angels of good that form street politics?

Makes a sweet honest kid turn illegal for commerce

To get his feet out of them Converse

That's my word

I feel like a black republican

Money keep comin' in

Can't turn my back on the hood

I got love for them

Can't clean my act up for good

Too much thug in him

Probably end up back in the hood

Ah, fuck it then

I feel like a black militant

Takin' over the government

Can't turn my back on the hood

Too much love for them

Can't clean my act up for good

Too much thug in him

Probably end up back in the hood

I'm like, "Fuck it then"