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The bloody ink on my notebook spelled suicide
Michael Jackson even passed because you tested him
Screw the lies of the Illuminati, say I'm lucid
Baptized at school, motherfucker, you decide
Because the journey comes with doors that are suicidal
Or my whores' thighs, they are oversized
It's right and wrong to have wars, black, pick a side
Now everyone hail the Lord as you do to God
Who I am? Lord Flacko
Painting vivid pictures, call me Basquiat, Picasso
Capo Head Honcho, now my followers are colossal
He's not a boxer, Pacquiao, but he's got the rifle anyway
It's like you heard God speak, I saw the school gospel
The choir is like my jacket and the preacher lowered his eyes
Sister Mary Jane, to put me to sleep singing high notes
The Bible or the rifle, good night friends
The bloody ink on my pen spelled suicide
Kurt Cobain even died because you scrutinized
It's a fine line between truth and lies
Jesus Christ never lied, yet he was crucified
That's why I never judge another black
Life is a bitch, but that bitch is in love with other blacks
3 to a bed, sheets, no covers, black
Dirty kitchen, no dinner in the cabinets, black
Loser blacks, what's up with blacks?
So my new attitude is like 'Fuck black people!'
I grew up with black people but don't hang out with black people
I don't trust them blacks, I ain't got no love for blacks
Had the gold grills shining like the blacks of the south
I kept it in check, now everyone is with us
Meanwhile you treated us all like other blacks
Now your world is in my palm, cover up blacks
Bridge
If I ever fall, Lord, pick me up
Since I was a baby, two deuces in sipping cups
From those diapers and my zip-me-ups
Now I'm walking on my own, everyone, wish me luck
Outro
where we lie
Tell me where we stand
Where we go
It's all part of the plan
where we lie
Tell me where we stand
Where we go
It's all part of the plan
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