Lyrics:

[* People talking *]



[Boots]

I write my lyrics on parking tickets and summons to the court

I scribbled this on an application for county support

I practice this like a sport

Met Donald Trump and he froze up

Standing on his Bentley yelling 'Pimps down, hoes up'

Some tryin' to front off

Break her ass a clump off

We gon' stop the world and make y'all motherfuckers jump off

This is my resume slash resignation

A ransom note with proposed legislation

A fevered ultimatum you should take it verbatim

Cause I got two bangin' pieces and you don't wanna date em'

Flyin' kites for my folks at home

Who takin' tokes alone

We payin' rent on shit they ain't even sposed to own

Narratin' through my verse, agitatin' when ya curse

It's a million motherfuckers just waitin' on the first

Anticipatin' on the worst, wanna weightin' up ya purse

Shook the jobby job down at noon and don't disperse

They wouldn't pay ya ass as far as they can throw you

They think you punkin' but they don't know you

Dissin' turf operata, play with twelve shot berettas

Buy the Burger King workers and we slappin' on ya lettuce

Wrote that in the back of those apartments

A coupon from agricultural departments

When we put down the X-O, we can let the threats go

And start shit, it's the ghetto manifesto



[Chorus x2]

That's what I'm talking about

Make me scream and shout

East, West, North, and South

Gonna turn this party out

Hey, hey



[* People talking *]



[Boots]

Call me bird cause of my legs but my ass don't sing

Got a house arrest anklet but it don't bling bling

The homie with a cell but that shit don't ring

But at lights out bars clang and souls get stang

Now it's the hustlin' sound, trick where they muscle around blacks

Make ya thoughts heavy, drop a joint and make the ground crack

Even renowned historians have found that

The people only bounce back when they pound back

So I take out a spray can and paste the pavement

Defacin' gravements of a sufferin' nation

The files are flagrant and that's the fragrance

I overheard them askin' vagrance for patients

So check the liner notes, I steal my finer quotes

For d-boys tryin' to flow them Gucci's and designer boats

And party liner jokes and all kinds of folks

Who all kind of broke

But bought twenties cause they feel like a lot of smoke

The trees we got lifted by made our feet dangle

So when I say burn one I mean the Star-Spangled

Let's all get high from the income angle

Bump this at the party even if it ain't the single

Here's a slum serenade, on razor blades and grenades

By nannies and maids who be polishin' the suede

You could let the sess blow but let's make the sets grow

Into brigades with the ghetto manifesto



[Chorus x2]



[* People talking *]