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To Whom It My Concern
Black Sheep
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The Suga D-I-C, D-A-D-I-E
That's just a title explaining who I be
Mister L-E-W-N-G-E
I'll take a sucker from any field and injure thee
Now that I've spelled it out and you like the way it sounds
I'm dissing rap music and wack music on the ground
You say I'm full of sheep and for that I give a pound
The Suga Dic-Daddy, Mister Long to break it down
Ladies step to me for a real neat treat
And if you don't want to call me Long
You can call me sweet meat
I wear protection, you won't catch claps here
Come over later but first go get a pap smear
Nine point five okay dear?
And don't forget clean underwear
'Cause I don't want the funk to flow
And after I nut, yo, you gotta go
Don't you know, ho?
Don't you know, ho?
Okay enough is enough
Time to get that off my ladder
And dig deep into subject matter
ย
I'm sick and tired of rap that's not real
And suckers making it with a pop feel
Labels signing acts for enough bills
Tax write off 'cause they have no skills
You go make a demo, get a deal and start to sprout
Gold, platinum, and then start selling out
You get a Benz and trash Denova
Double platinum and start crossing over
Then you get full, I won't give examples
Hint hint, they use the same old samples
But not the Sheep, for we are sleek and unique
Top of the peak and others are weak
Follow the words I speak, the situation is bleak
But this is the fly shit that you seek
When the style is dope Mister Long's a participator
If you want to battle, later
'Cause Black Sheep are certified greater than
But, I said later, man
I can dig it
ย
I turn on the radio
Be it prime time to a late night rap show
Hear the same old, same old
And that's on your new single
Your product is a product of no productivity
Can ya see, G?
You kick a wack style and claim to have brains
Take the funky drummer and give him back to James
"I'm dope, I'm dope!" Heh, I can't cope
Keep your cordless because you're bovis
You say you're sure, yeah, but I'm the surest that
Black Sheep are unique
Funky clever brothers that will make a church girl freak
Out, without a doubt
You have no wins in a ninety-one bout
So shout, pout
Do what you want but you're out the picture
And I'ma get ya, sucker
'Cause youse a dumb motherfucker
Better off as a tractor-trail trucker
But moving right along to the Woodstock, stop
Remember when the band was on rock?
Negro music, heh, separated
It blew up and then came rap and you hated it
That's of course 'til you see
A motherfucker that could be in your family
Drop lyric then you hear it with glee
The only thing it tells me
Is that you know a good thing when you see it
You run to get a tan 'cause you cannot be it
Still, off the top of my head
I guess I keep it rolling 'til, ah, the raps get stolen
Like so many other things for theft
And when it's gone, what will be left?
You, sucker
Dumb fucker, don't turn blue
Talking to you, sucker
ย