estee nack & mike shabb - black babies lyrics
i’m iceberg slim with the black mask
[intro: estee nack]
ay, oh yeah, oh
‘bout to get into the groove, son (yeah)
oh, sh+t, oh (uh huh)
nackie chan, (oh) shabbo (hey)
mothaf+ckin’ nack mandela (spray the— out the window)
uh huh (yeah)
[verse 1: estee nack]
spray the uzi out the window (brrr)
keep the sound of guns poppin’ on our instrumentals, credential (bah bah bah bah)
core artists drawin’+ colored pencil (d+mn)
couple weeks+ dade county in luxury rentals (yo)
unsuccessful attempt to finesse a finesser
excellent dresser, presser, coke connector (whip)
gun be the trеasure protector, [?]
from deep waters, babе watchin’ me like hasselhoff (whoa!)
you want crack or soft (what you need?)
nah, we ain’t thinkin’ of backin’ off so this sh+t is a home run (it’s gone)
winnin’ with the team and on my lonesome (nack)
you n+++++ so bum (d+mn)
at the edge of the table waitin’ for a n++++ to throw a crumb and front you a pack
you start smokin’ [?] ([?])
that’s crazy (that’s crazy)
the devil tryna find ways to make less black babies (devil)
tryna make at least a rack daily (cheese)
the city cooked+ it got the glitter but it lacks gravy (ooh)
[verse 2: ankhlejohn]
you lack patience, your moment could be comin’ soon but you rat+racin’
they usin’ [?] trainin’ to extract the flavors
a bunch a [?] gamers with black faces
givin’ off your kindness, ‘cause sh+t attract favors
the mac sprayin’, (brrr) uh
kick the chair underneath ya feet, he was hangin’ from the ceiling fan with the black cable tied and tangled, strangled
a f+ckin’ n0body, the morgues can’t name you
read the death certificate it was a known blank, cold case him
you been dishonest with a bold face
‘cause sh+t ended with me like do, re
and it’s no escapin’ it
you talk about money, well, rake it in
‘cause the trap’s a blackjack, whatever it take to win
but a rib shot’ll break his win
black babies, it resemble like we smoke crack lately
and i don’t appreciate it (nah)
you wanna drop the crime rate? well n++++, feed the dangerous (feed ‘em)
i be [?] when politicians won’t claim us
this ain’t a struggle rap, f+ck it, this sh+t get painful (ooh)
his first thought was pick up the glock and aim it (brrr)
whip up some crack and slang it (brrr)
it’s a soul sn+tch tryna explain my greatness
you hit the floor they don’t wanna exchange papers
you’re sh+t came with plain statements
[outro: ankhlejohn]
it’s black babies, you know that
you know what they call me man, lordy, man, for real
the one and only, for real, man (nackman)
it’s really me
lordy (you’re f+ckin’ with the nackster)
lordy! lordy!
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