Bitches slaves and indians
"They approached the boat in reddish paint
Naked, they were staring at our robes and garments giving thanks
Down, down from the sky, down
From the sky they seem to think we came"
I own the internet, five billion followers
But how pop can a nigga get?
Spin around, hat tipped down
Days of the ways of the phase of the samurai
Falcon on my shoulder but you know
Eyes of America, everybody looking
TV on the radio, knowledge in a book, and
God of the internet, God of the masters
You don't have to ask us, you can just do it
Light blinked red and I ran right through it
Matte black Tesla tank full of hydrogen
Pop that head stuck open my eyes
It's my computer in front of me
I'm typing all my thoughts as if I couldn't think them any sooner
She's just a night bird floating through your kingdom come
Threatened by Virgini on the plenty
Spitters who fear wondering
Trying to get Fulani, like the Roma bitch I'm wandering
"Nah nigga not that again"
Poems on the subway with some change up in my hat again
Snitches think I'm tattling
Bitches think I'm ragging them
Preachers think I'm preaching
While the teachers think I'm cheating
"They approached the boat in reddish paint
Naked, they were staring at our robes and garments giving thanks
Down, down from the sky, down
From the sky they seem to think we came"
"They approached the boat in reddish paint
Naked, they were staring at our robes and garments giving thanks
Down, down from the sky, down
From the sky they seem to think we came"