[Intro: Del the Funky Homosapien]
Man let me get some shit up off my chest
You know stress is the number one killer of black men
So Imma take off my coat so I can get up outta here
With a fresh coat of paint ya dig?
Some body work, it's gon' be like
I just came out the auto detail shop
That's right, ride out, leave all this bird shit for the bird brains
I know you guys know the feeling cuz
It's funky out here right about now for real homie
Just was five murders out here in Oakland over the weekend
In a 24 hour period
[Verse 1: Del the Funky Homosapien]
Hey, I'm sick of niggas, I'm sick of coons
I'm sick of tunes, half-written every rap they have is bitten
Sick of complaints, sick of movements that don't be moving
Another name for [?] it's an illusion
Sick of hoes shamming they hoe programming
Via emotional warfare, acquisition through sex
Sick of checking broads that be snitching to get you vexed
Sick of painstakingly taking the night out of a twist
Sick of holding back on niggas
I don't even know how I resist
Sick of bourgeois politics
Sick of trying to keep up with where all my dollars went
Sick in the head, I'm sick of all of this
But I ain't calling it quits
I just spit a sick flow that clip close
Like a sickle through a fields of weeds
You feel you're elite? You is weak
Don't even know that the root is the street
And you other rappers [?] stupid to me
With the same con and misinformed fans
Wanna place the blame on everybody eatin'
Money ain't the root of evil fool you need it
It's just power and the individual
And how he choose to treat it
Man let me get some shit up off my chest
You know stress is the number one killer of black men
So Imma take off my coat so I can get up outta here
With a fresh coat of paint ya dig?
Some body work, it's gon' be like
I just came out the auto detail shop
That's right, ride out, leave all this bird shit for the bird brains
I know you guys know the feeling cuz
It's funky out here right about now for real homie
Just was five murders out here in Oakland over the weekend
In a 24 hour period
[Verse 1: Del the Funky Homosapien]
Hey, I'm sick of niggas, I'm sick of coons
I'm sick of tunes, half-written every rap they have is bitten
Sick of complaints, sick of movements that don't be moving
Another name for [?] it's an illusion
Sick of hoes shamming they hoe programming
Via emotional warfare, acquisition through sex
Sick of checking broads that be snitching to get you vexed
Sick of painstakingly taking the night out of a twist
Sick of holding back on niggas
I don't even know how I resist
Sick of bourgeois politics
Sick of trying to keep up with where all my dollars went
Sick in the head, I'm sick of all of this
But I ain't calling it quits
I just spit a sick flow that clip close
Like a sickle through a fields of weeds
You feel you're elite? You is weak
Don't even know that the root is the street
And you other rappers [?] stupid to me
With the same con and misinformed fans
Wanna place the blame on everybody eatin'
Money ain't the root of evil fool you need it
It's just power and the individual
And how he choose to treat it
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!