BLACKBABIES 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 (Damn)
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 (Damn)
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’ nobody, 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 wind
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 snatch tryna explain my greatness
You hit the floor they don’t wanna exchange papers
Your 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!