Freedman's Bureau [Explicit]
Billy Woods, Elucid
Popularity ยท Low
Listen
YouTube
0:00 / 0:00
Loading YouTube player...
Lyrics offset
Synced
Lyrics
Two more gun point out front
Headed towards 108 right now
Two more gun point in front of the business
And label one-seventeen, I got a plate
One-eight-seven
Twenty-five can't stop pain, play the game
Make a name for yourself, put the blame on someone else
Only reach to resist, empty clip and spin shells
Just how many in defense? It's all blurred
Allegation rape and wear
The autopsy, toxicology lab
And they not gonna feel what's under your arm
I bet they hide a city sewn the fuck up
Muscle down and we can select
You can't stop the bum rush
Tactics of a lesser god
Feed the beast, scan your card
Carbon charge, quota time
Numbers talk, troopers in tongs
Fuck 'em all, damage control
Procedures right out the book
Be honest for once, man, shoot for the shook
Death squads answer the hook
Refer to movement, make 'em nervous
Men they grab and they turn
Bet that's murder, bloody murder
Which weasel you finna hide behind?
State appointed, preferred distiller, it's all designed
Vulture time, crooked dicks, and deep pockets
Lifetime desk job offers with full coverage
One hand wash the other, loyalty is different
Who you callin' a victim?
Stay away from twice prime
Everybody wanna be a nigga, nobody wanna be a nigga
Furthermore, the trigger blast they got a right to
Ain't no telling what he might do
Everybody wanna be a nigga, nobody wanna be a nigga
Furthermore, the trigger blast they got a right to
Ain't no telling what he might do
Everybody wanna be a nigga, nobody wanna be a nigga
Furthermore, the trigger blast they got a right to
Ain't no telling what he might do
Everybody wanna be a nigga, nobody wanna be a nigga
Furthermore, the trigger blast they got a right to
Ain't no telling what he might do
They wanna know if you live what you say
But talk is cheap and I'm in the dollar store every day
Half a mind to rob the place, clean getaway to stalk streets
With a pocket full of bad pennies, juvenile techniques
Double vinyl, paint train Lionel
Mind you, the last time shit went down we couldn't find you
So revolution, color me skeptical like swine flu
Crackers still win when they lose like Rocky
'88, King Jaffe, seventh grade
Coming to America, slightly out of touch
I wasn't black enough for the back of the cheese bus
Swiftly dumbed it down, started acting up
They dark as Chris Tucker calling me a spear chuckler
Kid, they really mind fucked ya
But make no mistake, I'm Quinn Buckner
Black on black, matter fact, everybody in the hood Benjamin Button
It's just black don't crack
Every corner of Babylon strapped with gats
More plastic than Chinese export and it's looking like we caught
Till he use the force, these are not the negroes you're looking for
Whether synth or beatbox, heat rocks like pipe dreaming and detox
Now all I need is a tape full of disposable cheap shots
To get the moniker buzzing like doors to '90s weed spots
Super Cat, cousin, I'll play the fiddle while your ghetto red hot
Everybody wanna be a nigga, nobody wanna be a nigga
Furthermore, the trigger blast they got a right to
Ain't no telling what he might do
Everybody wanna be a nigga, nobody wanna be a nigga
Furthermore, the trigger blast they got a right to
Ain't no telling what he might do