Just Say No - CYNE

Hot in the name of no don but Bishop Tutu

We make «Planet Rock» neo-Zulu

Nation at loss.

Oh gosh.

Who boss?

Who knew

We’re all Tony Danzas dancing for Angela?

Angela, Pamela, Renee

I love ya and from around the way

I stay in your project, hood, or tenement

The rubberband man stand, count Benjamin

Hail Washington, bullet hole Kennedy

Their rap comatose—nigga, we got remedy

Wake the fuck up!

Wake the fuck up!

That Nelly shit sucks.

Little girls, don’t buy it

Wake the fuck up!

Wake the fuck up!

They underground, stagnant—too scared to move

So I’mma rock back and «Lean Wit It»

That music like crack—kill black self esteem.

Get it?

We’ve been dancing for too long

My feet hurt, plus my back ain’t too strong

If it ain’t young, it’s Young Sleazy

Money don’t kill the game.

Y’all believe me?

Cause

Everybody up in the club but don’t dance

Bitches wanna fuck for cost.

I won’t pay, got

Money in the bank—this time we getting paid right

E Je Ka Jo

Sometimes, I rhyme slow.

Sometimes, I rhyme quick

Turn on the radio, then damn.

I get sick

Every 10 minutes be the same playlist

With these doo-doo-ass rappers and they speaker-spell hits

Fuck that shit.

My stereo’s gonna quit

Playing tired-ass rhymes out your painted-white lips

Money now, but you still act a fool

Doing Dr. Seuss rhymes and your label Playskool

Fuck this shit.

I’m a grown-ass man

Doing grown-ass things as I god damn can

While you cop chains, I’mma buy me some land

While you sit on 24s, I’mma build with my fans

Giving you the real shit—shit you can deal with

Listen on the corner while the plane hit the building

CYNE mixtapes for the women and the children

One per person.

Play it in your churches

E Je Ka Jo

I strayed from the life surreal, but I’mma give

All y’all a piece of my mind, so word—live

Smile a little, prince.

Be king

Today, sheep rule