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Chris Crack – Teach Kids Black History lyrics
[Intro]
Yeah, bitch
[Verse 1: Chris Crack]
Damn, smashed a fifth of that Jack D
Cooling out on back streets (right)
Wish a nigga would try to jack me (swag)
Get back slapped past last week (yeah)
I was black 'lac on a cash breach (yeah)
Ask your little bitch how I creep
A lot of ass-smacks and grab shit (way up)
Some real life from a ill spit (oh, yeah)
Like Bill Nye, me a Socrates
But a real nigga hypotheses (right)
Like Iraq, get caught for cheese
God, then the rich tryna up your fees
Then turn your back on real G's
I don't fuck with that, that's y'all sin
'Cause you all ball on the wrong team
Do some real crunches on a nigga's stream
Of consciousness, it's a tidal wave
Let me put you on some real game (right)
I wish I still had J-boogie
Now the real niggas still getting paid
I ain't never fronted 'til I touch a grave
Or Donald Trump'll get us blown away
Hey Gzus Piece, what you today? (Swga)
Tell them niggas, what you want today
Living how I get it, get it how I live
Fuckin' with the kids, drankin' on the filth
Living how I get it, get it how I live
Fuckin with the kids, drankin' on the filth
[Vesre 2: Gzus Piece]
(Woo! Woo!)
The fuck boys will try to test the flow
And these good times you know that I'ma ask to roll
I'ma knock 'em all dead so keep the stretcher close
And back then, them bitches ain't want me, so they missed the glow (haha)
Hoe, so get the fuck on
That's the kind of shit they like, and I ain't the one to love on
You didn't see Chris without Nief
And until it's drawn blood, this knife can never be sheefed
You can't spell team without E
And we was riding out West with that gun under the seat, ha
While you was playing in the sheets
You probably listening to Keef, I was bumpin' that Lil B
Yeah, bitch
[Verse 1: Chris Crack]
Damn, smashed a fifth of that Jack D
Cooling out on back streets (right)
Wish a nigga would try to jack me (swag)
Get back slapped past last week (yeah)
I was black 'lac on a cash breach (yeah)
Ask your little bitch how I creep
A lot of ass-smacks and grab shit (way up)
Some real life from a ill spit (oh, yeah)
Like Bill Nye, me a Socrates
But a real nigga hypotheses (right)
Like Iraq, get caught for cheese
God, then the rich tryna up your fees
Then turn your back on real G's
I don't fuck with that, that's y'all sin
'Cause you all ball on the wrong team
Do some real crunches on a nigga's stream
Of consciousness, it's a tidal wave
Let me put you on some real game (right)
I wish I still had J-boogie
Now the real niggas still getting paid
I ain't never fronted 'til I touch a grave
Or Donald Trump'll get us blown away
Hey Gzus Piece, what you today? (Swga)
Tell them niggas, what you want today
Living how I get it, get it how I live
Fuckin' with the kids, drankin' on the filth
Living how I get it, get it how I live
Fuckin with the kids, drankin' on the filth
[Vesre 2: Gzus Piece]
(Woo! Woo!)
The fuck boys will try to test the flow
And these good times you know that I'ma ask to roll
I'ma knock 'em all dead so keep the stretcher close
And back then, them bitches ain't want me, so they missed the glow (haha)
Hoe, so get the fuck on
That's the kind of shit they like, and I ain't the one to love on
You didn't see Chris without Nief
And until it's drawn blood, this knife can never be sheefed
You can't spell team without E
And we was riding out West with that gun under the seat, ha
While you was playing in the sheets
You probably listening to Keef, I was bumpin' that Lil B
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