THE BROWN STAINS OF DARKEESE LATIFAH PART 6-12 (REMIX)

Oh, you the motherfucking man, huh? Oh, you be fucking bitches, counting all the bands, huh? Oh, you be trapping out the bando selling grams, huh? Oh, you be smoking, drinking lean, and popping Xans, huh? You see, that's the bullshit that I don't need I'm telling y'all niggas, y'all ain't fucking with me See, I look in the mirror and he said, "You are the man" And I said, "Hey man, I agree" Rocks on rainbow, Ben's a nice fellow Your neck reflects your personality, and mine is yellow Boy, I hit the block, like I hate Legos They know, they got thirty seconds; Jared Leto Before they see some halos, and I reload the ammo Boy, it's Golf Wang-o, and that's the squad I bang-o Until my fucking brain go, now let's reload the aim-o [Verse 2: Tyler, the Creator] Can't a nigga get some fucking chaos in hurr? I'm the truth and the dare And you can get your ass beat like a kick and a snare ScHoolboy's my niggy, you know I'm good in the 50s That boy's not that bad, enh, it's no Biggie It's the G-O, the L-F, we go-go, no homo We black out, and go hard like JoJo and fuckin' Diggy No ship in this series, since I pissed off Iggy man We been that man since Batman had a sidekick Catch me in some Vans like one of them soccer mamas And them bitches blue like that family went to the Dodgers Solve 'em (Oh no!) You can't bitch, I'm a problem And you'll get fucked up like the thoughts inside of my noggin Going harder than the quidditch in Harry Potter All my shows got one black in it like Larry David And I'm that nigga, meaning I'm two niggas, I'm schizo Brent Lowe, my motherfucking bingo Pink and yellow on my neck remind you of my dickhole And I don't really fuck with you niggas, shout out to Jim Crow Don't get offended, love being darkskinned 23 with the crib and I don't got no tenants And I don't like sports, but the court got a tennis Is that diamonds on your neck? Stay the fuck out my business See, that's that Cherry Bomb, get my burr on That's McLaren, '91 out the Chevron Motors Flog Gnaw, Vans on, fuck your Jordans Went from throwing up to throwing carnivals Boy, I'm a sicko, flaco nigga, but kinda macho Boy, I got some vatos and shout out to ScHooly, he kinda loco Pack a de la pistol, we splitting nachos, then for that cheese Boy, he was using some shells just like a taco, so grab your goggles Nigga, Taco Tuesday, you don't want none of that Have you heard of Fairfax? Boy, we was running that Nigga took the store from us, yeah, fuck all of that (Man, he really took the store) [Verse 3: ScHoolboy Q] Crack a cracker with a barrel, uh (yeah) Gang bang tattoos, this ain't a Louis rag (rag) Orange Paisley got me crip crazy (uh, sup cuz?) Pants heavy, sag to the left with the belt strapped No face mask, nigga, just toe tags Still the blunts getting passed, yeah Ain't worried 'bout no niggas (nigga) I don't grieve over suckers (sucker) Gunpowder on my knuckles (knuckle) Call the ambulances (ambulances) I'm from the era of crip walking You was clown-dancing, you wanna be me, huh? Cuz is wack in his raps and what he rap, he ain't done Top Dawg, Wolf Gang, smell the cat on your tongue Pussy boy, you fucked over, nigga, control your gums Teeth missing, moms' won't recognize your face when it's lump My square homie's license, double life in my trunk Mind, power, body, and soul, we break handcuffs Got a strike on my record, double cups, and duck You want the life like us, you need to crip that coast You want to steer that wheel, you want to smoke that kil' Well, who am I? Part 2 - SPECIAL (Hidden track, physical only) [Intro] Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker Anything that'll piss you muthafuckas off I don't even smoke and I'm a level up of all of y'all Bitch, you couldn't reach me with a ladder and a calling card [Hook] I'm special, nigga Who the fuck are you?! I'm special, nigga [Verse] They used to tell me to calm down, said I have a problem Now I'm runnin' shit, that's why you never see me wearin' joggers Lead by example, how? All y'all is my son and I ain't never had a fuckin' father Boy, I'mma bring the noise I got my own beat and we all got drums What these weapons about? We're just flexin' about You on your grind who the one that got the wep at their house? Bitch, I do this on purpose, you niggas don't got a purpose This nigga call me a clown, nigga I own the circus Stack is sittin' in my pocket folded up like a papaya You know I golf bitch like I been sleepin' with Tiger Woody woody, my mob, mob is goodie we Oddkast We o-K-K-K just like the clan Hoodie golf shit packet, rip it out the fuckin' package In that all pink fit lookin' like a fuckin' faggot Who the fuck you think you fuckin' with, nigga!? I'm a bad case of I don't even know I'm about to tear the shit out this goddamn house I think I'm about to blow my muthafuckin' brains out Tyler, take a chill pill, nigga