Black Bastards!

[Intro]
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeaahh!
Let it Go
Ah! Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh!
What's the deal?
What's the deal?
What's the deal?
What's the deal?

[Hook x8: Gylan Kain]
"I ain't black!"
"I ain't white!"

[Verse 1: Zev Love X]
Well, I'll be a AIDS sleazer
If I had skeezer after skeezer stacked up like ice cubes in my freezer
I'd rather live to be a old geezer, O.E. squeezer
Any times I need a stress easer
Like Ebeneezer Scrooge I'm rude, my battin' average is huge
Makin' street hits like Quaker with the grits
Sure as a monkey spits, I never gots the shits
Some rappers is fakin', they silicon tits with plastic nipples
Pass the ripple, or anythin' sippable
Except for plum juice, the plums is sure grippable
Slip and slidin', the next thing they say is we're with pit
Who's to flip? Who's the bitch to get fucked by a clip?
Ask Tyson, he know about a hoe is rotten juice
Worth fifteen cent, and burnin' like a loose
I take it to the grudge match, and she made my budget budge
Kick her in her snatch, and drown her in some fudge
I judge trees by the fruits and the deepness of the roots
Hard packed, with rats, true recruits of the flutes
Some come in bum, some with zoot suit apparel
Either way to wreck shop lock, stock and barrel
Off chimps I gets pumped, never slump, ‘specially when I hump
Gets, dough by the lump sum then hop, skip, and jump
Sip wine in the dumps or alleyways of any state
Where I roll, bounce, rock, skate
Live from concentrate, concentration
Location's Strong Island, where skins is on strike like Penn Station
If you don't believe me, kid, come! I'll show you!
Where lurks the black bastards who act like they know you
They say 'What up, black?", I say "What up?", I'm thinkin' you, black
Has to be hard they way they master how to act black
Give my monkey slack a funky track — you're still wack, you're black
You suck your teeth like it's your back

[Interlude: Gylan Kain]
"Ya black bastard!"
A-yo! Bumba ras, ya rasclat
Ya ain't nothin' but a damn black bastard, man
Your mama was a bastard, and your daddy, too

[Verse 2: Zev Love X]
Yo, black, yo, black
I'm back ransackin' through the stacks of maniacal thoughts
I've brought to distort the wack mistakes of some
So Zev says, "Keep 'em slum styles to delf", rum is on my right
Of black bastards and bitches, which reminds me, I left 'em out
Two from my list of shit I don’t give a fuck about!
Smokes an artist and a butcher wears a smock
Like a butcher I gots beef, with a looptie for my cock
Call me a carpenter from how brick my lumber got
So now they try and yardie a young black bumbaclot
It was Ed Lover’s birthday party, a block from the spot
On stage, I heard some off-beat "Lick shot! Lick shot!"
Well, goddamn! Guess who, lookin' bitchy as hell
It’s Parker Lewis, well, well, I brings a L
I gave a "Beef-beef" look, he acted like he couldn't tell
I guess that was the sucker in him, ready set to swell
Then Jorge said it was insane, advice to maintain
But damn, it has to be hard the way they master how to act black
Or off the funky track to rock the house in vain
As we sat with curiosity, and sipped champagne
See, I became underground since the life in the street
The love of the beat, large is the fleet
That will remain underground for all my boys whose souls sleep
Six feet deeper than the soles of my feet
It's like that, never the wack, and actual fact
It's like this, sweet as a kiss, that's if you got the knack
I've thought I've seen the worst with the pimps and the macks
And the cracks and stone packs, suckers keep poppin' that..

[Outro x8: Gylan Kain]
"I ain't black!"
"I ain't white!"