Ain't No Black Superman

(альбом: Bullets Ain't Got No Name, Vol. 1 - 2008)

The Empire
Ha-ha, yeah man, it's that G.E.D shit, you feel me?
And I am the one and only el natural nino
Hitting every dollar I holla, ha, let's go

Yo, it's that H-borough, too thorough
A block away from Melrose, the nigga's getting stuck like velcro
The prostitutes ain't the only ones that sell blow
Hell no, cellphone pictures with the jail pose (Haha)
I can tell yo, why these ladies love me now
Run me down, give her to my dogs like puppy-town
You couldn't touch my style, not on your best day
Comprende? Your men lay when the M10 spray
Fuck what them say, I'm tight quarterbacking it
When I'm throwing bullets I be accurate
Weekends on the bully, they be jacking shit
That's why I be packing shit
The only time you shoot is at a hoop when you practicing
Running drills, I dream to see a hundred mils
Stunting ill 'til my pockets heavier than Uncle Phil
Tell your son to chill, he ain't want to deal
Try it fam, I'm Iron Man 'cause I come wit' steel
I wish a sucka will, my dudes thugs for real
He probably think I'm George Foreman how I punch his grill
What's the deal yo? Talking what I'm living now
Wanna fuck the pictures I be digging out? (Huh?)

Yo, this Hutch, I ain't in right now but please– uh you know, I'm out, flossing, tossing, dipping, and tripping, you know what I'm sayin'?
Ay, Hutch man, they cleaned your momma house man
I don't know what they got–I'm broke man, and they looking for us man, call me over at [?] house

Man check this out homie
Look, it's 10 stacks on my neck and 20 more on my brodie's shit
I'm self-made, ain't no nigga ever throw me shit
Outside my enemies, I'm watching who I'm rolling with
That .40 on me like a fucking Motorola clip
Shit, I feel like a million when I'm full willing
At 7:45 parked in front of your building
Designer jeans, Gucci loafers, [?]
I got a kilo on my neck, I'ma go get it
See what you looking at now that's my old vision (Look)
Chess moves, my next move to get more business (Look)
I promise I be on my tips 'til my toes give in
I'ma always shine, I'll never let my glow blemish
I hear you talking but fuck what you niggas say
'Cause real niggas know a real nigga demonstrate
And real niggas know it's real 'cause I illustrate
That feeling of a young hood nigga when he getting cake
Glocks and gauges putting faces on the newspaper
I can't get caught for old crimes and catch new cases
Blocks invaders, spy rage just if you've made it
Homies in the hole [?] wit' no shoe laces
Back on the streets I'm rolling weed and see through paper
Dipping down the shore, S-types with the blue paint
Popping tops off bottles with the gold label
It's pretty good to say I dropped out the tenth grade
I'm better than ever, this rap shit is [?]
This for my niggas in the county on the Mainline

We break bread like it's Hanukkah
G.E.D's my moniker
Every day I be [?] up, shit, my dollars up
My God