Lyrics Black Sheep

Black Sheep

B.b.s.

Crumbs to the floor

Bums off the wall

Stage lamb they're sure I hate ya all

like a real brawl

One to the two, two to the are

E to S-E baby pall

Doin my thing with my peeps

I bounce around the city like I was a personal check, see

I'm only runnin with niggaz catchin, dayroom wreck be

Keepin it real with appeal I gets filthy like I'm dirty

Straight up and down you'll say that them the niggaz seven thirty

What nah, bumba claat babble like you got to say

Neither one no got jack, then me not come to play

So move it away I say before you can't move it away

Black Sheep, aight? Black Sheep, aiyyyy!

Iiiii, oweee, who? You so

I'm rockin it on the regular I pick it up like a fro

and your radio's fly when the Sheep's on the dial

YOu flaunt it and freak it and flip it, freely with style

On top of the pile, funky laundry, for Ron G

Crazy shout out to papi pop, and Kanji

Keepin it tight making it right since I left

Though it was never wrong, don't hate me cause I'm def

I'm just

Bubblin brown sugar (4x)

Plop, plop... fizz fizz, oh what a relief it is

To be the epitome of an MC, gettin biz-E

after are, are after D

S at the end yes y'all it's me

No need to doubt it, New York's got my loyalty

Boogie down astoundin sound representin royalty

Oop-a-daisy maybe, opps-a-daisy

Boots upside the head of niggaz who played D

Emblamin like fluid I'm keepin bullets like you threw it

Tip-top, hip-hop, Black Sheep, new shit

The brown bubblin down to rip it on the double

and it's been three joints everybody thinks we"re smugglin

Ahem ahem, yeash well you know me

I put dope inside your vinyls, cassettes, and CD's

A shoe-in when I kick it in the Bronx like Danny Branko

My flows dodge trucks when I pickup like a Bronco

Bubblin brown sugar (4x)

Yo, I save the drama for my mama comma for your comedy

With a condom for your momma when she's up on top of me

I call it jealousy and you can call me hoe

Cause I was hittin bahbazahsn that you're never gonna know

Alls well, that ends well, here's to welfare

And friends that confront, and lovers that care

I get down Uptown from dawn to dusk be

Takin the whoopin streets like I was Billy McCluskie

Fuck retro, nineties in Harlem you'll get wet bro

Get low, or you might need assistance from your head hoe

Dolo wreakin havoc on your phono the igniter

I'm smokin cheeba sonny, I run with street fighters

And I'm not hearin your noise fearin your boys playin with toys

I'm crashin with a passion trashin and smashin decoys

Bright lights in action, yours you'll beg my pardon

Cause you can't be a Harlem player unless you play in Harlem