[Intro]
Oh, no
Oh, no
Oh, no
Oh, no
[Verse 1: Lupe Fiasco]
The mind's all a flutter, no pigs on the gig
No swine for the supper, no wine in the cupboard
Everything of mine must show signs of the suffer
And keep you abreast of the utter, struggle
To keep it all fresh like tupper
One of the tougher ginger bread men out the cutter
Skin ain't Huck Finn but I ain't Nigga Jim motherfucker
I'm more like Clubber, from the upper cut of the gutter
Never kow tow I won't bow down to the bull like Calcutta
That ain't what I'm rapping for, I'd rather be a matador
So ta ta, rather raw
I know that sounds fucked up like a repertoire
But there's no Ruth's Chris if I lose so I choose
To keep em seeing red like crips and pirus
He the guy who rides the haikus
Schooled at Cooley High, who has the not to
Till its time to rise up, ride for our views
Tired of all the lies won't abide by ya'll rules
AK's and IQ's, so my skies are light blue
Oh, no
Oh, no
Oh, no
Oh, no
[Verse 1: Lupe Fiasco]
The mind's all a flutter, no pigs on the gig
No swine for the supper, no wine in the cupboard
Everything of mine must show signs of the suffer
And keep you abreast of the utter, struggle
To keep it all fresh like tupper
One of the tougher ginger bread men out the cutter
Skin ain't Huck Finn but I ain't Nigga Jim motherfucker
I'm more like Clubber, from the upper cut of the gutter
Never kow tow I won't bow down to the bull like Calcutta
That ain't what I'm rapping for, I'd rather be a matador
So ta ta, rather raw
I know that sounds fucked up like a repertoire
But there's no Ruth's Chris if I lose so I choose
To keep em seeing red like crips and pirus
He the guy who rides the haikus
Schooled at Cooley High, who has the not to
Till its time to rise up, ride for our views
Tired of all the lies won't abide by ya'll rules
AK's and IQ's, so my skies are light blue
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