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Mick Jenkins – Black Sheep Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Young Mozart with more keys
Black sheep with a gang of wolves before me, they think we homies
But keep hearts and shoulders colder than Loki
I be no Thor, just bring ’em more of this halitosis
Got everybody asking, “Is it hot in here?”
I ain’t no polka dot man, I ain’t trying to find no spot in here
I ain’t no guinea pig
Just know that he drop hot lines that’s all in my lineage
The process is linen the wrinkles definitive
So what all the hate for? Her premise is primitive
Her promise is tentative, better pay attention
So polish the penmanship, I been late to mention the fact that it’s free
This is for all the niggas bastard as me
Food for your soul, Harold’s chicken, Statik Selektah battered the beat
Assault and battery on your mind, can’t you see how this world be?
It won’t be to long before you need a battery pack, but I’m better than that
A freshman on varsity nigga where yo Letterman at?
Ginger ale on the rocks where yo gentleman at?

[Bridge]
Boy, my pinky in the air
I just crush a lot, I ain’t never been a player
Niggas throwing shade, they could holla at me later
You might catch a fade, give a f**k about a—FADER

[Verse 2]
And I do it for the love
Praying that my peoples get to see the one above show me love
And know that I’m speaking the truth, I never had no problem being transparent
Remember I was younger wishing that I had my friends’ parents
Back when they lied to us better, I’m on this water now
Funny how these other niggas thirsty but they watered down
They oughta drown, watching niggas run for the boat when the rain drops
How many lies can you tell yourself before the pain stops?
Out here harvesting the same crop
Woe is me
I’m out here sowing seeds, blowing trees, writing all this poetry
Every freaking night peep the Jodeci
‘Till the people quoting me
Or at least peep the potency
And profess a nigga artistry openly
Black sheep, but I know you see the GOAT in me

[Outro]
Clark: What do you think can be done to change, to use your term, the moral fiber of America?

Baldwin: I think that one has got to find some way of putting the present administration of this country on the spot. One has got to force, somehow, from Washington, a moral commitment, not to the Negro people, but to the life of this country. It doesn’t matter any longer– and I’m speaking for myself, for Jimmy Baldwin, and I think I’m speaking for a great many other Negroes too– it doesn’t matter any longer what you do to me. You can put me in jail, you can kill me; by the time I was 17, you’d done everything that you could do to me. The problem now is: how are you going to save yourselves?

[Produced by Statik Selektah]

Kevin Abstract – American Problem Lyrics

Play this song

[Intro]
Could you (Could you) try (Ooh, now, now, now)
To remember what you said tonight
Do you remember how high we was? (Ooh, boy)
If I, if I don’t want to say sorry (If I don’t want to)
Then nigga, I won’t (Aye-ya-ya-ya-ya)
Motherfuck a high road (Aye-ya-ya-ya-ya)
As it closes

[Verse 1]
Who touchin’ now, who touchin’ now, who touchin’ my bag?
You’re hurtin’ me bad, I ain’t seen the glass, it’s the summer
I ain’t going bad, better believe in that, had to creep in fast
Think I’m finna burn it, burn it to the ground, bruh

[Chorus]
I drink, I smoke, I drink, I smoke, I drink until I sleep
(You gotta pass the thing over her)
I know, I know, I know, I know, this shit gon’ catch up to me
(Yeah, yeah, yeah shawty, I)
I drink, I smoke, I drink, I smoke, I drink until I sleep
(You gotta pass the thing over her)
I know, I know, I know, I know, red wine gon’ catch up to me
(West Side, red, red wine)

[Verse 2]
I can’t sleep next to no one
Who don’t look like, who don’t look like you
And all my girlfriends, they tell me
“Well you would’ve been better if you picked someone who was just like you”
(Who touchin’ now, who touchin’ now, who touchin’ my mind?)

[Interlude]
You gotta pass the thing over her
Yeah, yeah, yeah shawty, I
(Microphone check, check, one, two)
You gotta pass the thing over her
(Microphone check, check, one, two)
Yeah, shawty, West Side, yeah, West Side, shawty
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

[Verse 3]
I’m stuck in the van with a mask on
Think about taking my life, but the plan’s wrong
Think about finding a way to make the sand go, gone
I need another song to sing along to
Ninth grade, Tyler was the illest shit I ever heard
Going to his concerts, no mask, singing every word
I think it’s kinda crazy how my life panned out
I think it sucks that you and I ain’t work out
I used to sleep on Jon’s couch, saying I’ll be out this bitch sooner than later
17, I said I was gon’ make some shit that was gon’ be bigger than the FADER
I wanna be Paramount
I wanna move far away and buy my parents a house
I was obsessed with a blouse, I just liked the way it looked
I thought a brother was cute
He was older than his dawg, I was breaking the rules
I was a flaming faggot, that’s what the principal called me
Not to my face, but I felt when I was stuck in his office
I’m just a, I’m just another American problem, my nigga
Uh, uh, yeah, uh
Another American problem

Tory Lanez – March 2nd

[Verse]
Second cycle, the kid is movin’ like Billy Idol
With some past due W’s that I’m still entitled
City love me I treat it like it’s a bridal
Tux black as the strap I’m using to hit the rival
Last album was great but I know this one is greater
I made it this far as a great tastemaker without a spread from Complex and them covers that come in from FADER
I’m at tables with mans you love it
Fuck it, I made it from buckets
Slept in the rugged seats of a Civic
To walking through the city and niggas screaming I did it
I spit this shit from way back for ’em
This for niggas that told me
"I’ll come back" but never came back for ’em
Loyal to them so I wait back for ’em like they my niggas
Knowin’ they isn’t, these niggas so insufficient
When we was both dealing, I used to throw in the pigeon
I guess, that mean nothing when niggas start coexisting
I done lost some good girls and niggas that I would cope with
Been backstabbed by niggas I used to smoke with
As far as rap I’m not the one to toe-to-toe with or go at it blow for blow with the silly shit no for no with
Money on the line, its money all on my mind
Calculating this vision, I sum it up for the grind
I promise when I got it I’d fuck it up for the times
Put 20k on the tab and buss it up every time, you get me?
In a Bentley smokin’ on a fat 20, jealous niggas don’t offend me, Dior dripped in the Fendi
I do it for the family OGs that never sent me on mission when I was down to put clip in and leave it empty and work
I ain’t trippin’ ’bout who got at me and dissed
I’m blessed, when I think about who shot at me and missed
I came from real situations
Niggas got clapped for little insinuations, time and impatience
Been grindin’, finding my way in so much bros like the Wayans
Sometime it weigh me down whenever they try weigh in
In the day out, in the day in, shooters on say when
Niggas got clapped before the day end
The city I come from, taught me that there’s nothing to run from
It taught me get my money in lump sums
So ’til that day, still at war, I’m still at pay
Never change boy, we still that way
It’s young Fargo

Tory Lanez – March 2nd Lyrics

[Verse]
Second cycle, the kid is movin’ like Billy Idol
With some past due W’s that I’m still entitled
City love me I treat it like it’s a bridal
Tux black as the strap I’m using to hit the rival
Last album was great, but I know this one is greater
I made it this far as a great tastemaker without a spread from Complex and them covers that come in from FADER
I’m at tables with mans you love it
Fuck it, I made it from buckets
Slept in the rugged seats of a Civic
To walking in the city and niggas screaming I did it
I spit this shit from way back for ’em
This for niggas that told me, “I’ll come back” but never came back for ’em
Loyal to them so I wait back for ’em like they my niggas
Knowin’ they isn’t, these niggas so insufficient
When we was both dealing, I used to throw in the pigeon
I guess, that mean nothing when niggas start coexisting
I done lost some good girls and niggas that I would cope with
Been backstabbed by niggas I used to smoke with
As far as rap I’m not the one to toe-to-toe with or go at it blow for blow with the silly shit no for no with
Money on the line, its money all on my mind
Calculating this vision, I sum it up for the grind
I promise when I got it I’d fuck it up for the times
Put 20k on the tab and buss it up every time, you get me?
In a Bentley smokin’ on a fat 20, jealous niggas don’t offend me, Dior dripped in the Fendi
I do it for the family OGs that never sent me on mission when I was down to put clip in and leave it empty and work
I ain’t trippin’ ’bout who got at me and dissed
I’m blessed, when I think about who shot at me and missed
I came from real situations
Niggas got clapped for little insinuations, time and impatience
Been grindin’, finding my way in so much bros like the Wayans
Sometime it weigh me down whenever they try weigh in
In the day out, in the day in, shooters on say when
Niggas got clapped before the day end
The city I come from, taught me that there’s nothing to run from
It taught me get my money in lump sums
So ’til that day, still at war, I’m still at pay
Never change boy, we still that way
It’s young Fargo