Slave-Black Moon

I＇m gettin the ahh, I＇m gettin the ahh from the Weak sh*t that i hear no lyrical styles come near To the one who boasts like buck On the mic truck, cuz I never gave a f**k I hate the weak sh*t, man it be f**kin with my soul I peeped how radio be trying to take control Tellin me to get a little lighter on my lyrics But if it ain＇t real on the mic I can＇t feel it Straight from my bloodstream, I pump finesse Nevertheless, hold it in your chest like stress Rhythm and blues style is not in my environment But until I fall off, call off your set And if you never knew me, then you never knew wreck Look inside of the mind and see Cause you might be trapped with a ni**a like me I feel like I＇m trapped in the motherf**kin cave To the rhythm I＇m a slave, lookin in my grave Jugulur vein bustin out my neck, you see the rage I move when I groove cuz I＇m into, the stage Of the buckshot, black, i＇m bringin it back To the roots, like timberland boots, home on my rack And I don＇t give a F**K what you say Commercial rap, get the gun clap, day after day Niggaz don＇t play on the d low, kid you know my steelo I roll on more niggaz than cee-lo We might just bumrush your set Me AND my niggaz on the real mic check Like my ni**a Smif gettin swift on the gift Then I toss another lesson to my ni**a Wessun And my ni**a Five from the tribe of Moon Pass the Crooked I, b**ch yo pass the boom Whenever you＇re ready I＇ma take you into the stage Deep in the mind of a slave