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Black Cowboys

Verse 1

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I heard some MC's want to bring it

But a female is one of their strongest men

When I step to you don't seek refuge

Make it happen, fuck the rappin'

Because I know I got that sewed

The first time I ever touched the microphone it glowed

Now I explode, eruptin' like a nigga that drunk too much

But not intoxicated...

As mental stress increase you'll need to be sedated

Sick and tired of the izm schism

This time's a warning, after this we take it to pugilism

Mash out the beedies, dreads spark up the corn

I flow muddy like the gutter after the rainstorm

My mission to seek, build or destroy

Like Deadwood Dick, I be the Black Cowboy

And this is the showdown...

Chorus

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[Primo scratching]

"I got the wild style..." / "Black Cowboy"

Verse 2

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After this MC's will wish to do battle with me

For their sake I hope that they apply the proper strategy

In any case, worst comes to worst I'll be the best

Storms will come, this we know for sure, but can you stand the crash test?

There's no vest or no way you can get suited up

For what's about to happen, you might as well get zooted

I heard that ignorance is bliss, so I guess you're all blistered

The wrong move is made, like 40's in the ghetto your cap is quickly twisted

And just in case the first time you missed it

The wrong move is made, like 40's in the ghetto your cap is quickly twisted

Livin' on a diet of flesh and Mistic

I kicks the ballistics and keep it realistic

We shoot shit up like the Hatfields and McCoys

Perverted monks, the Black Cowboys

And this is the showdown...

Repeat chorus

Verse 3

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It's a cryin' shame what some niggas'll do for fame

When they think they know the game

But I switch up the rules of the game

Drops jewels in the game

The fluid is quite fatal, like water on the brain

I be the Sheriff and I got MC's on the chain gang

Continuous hard labour until the day that they hang

One outlaw tried to escape but I murdered his gang

Right back at ya bitch-ass just like a boomerang

Or a bolo, you couldn't knock me out with Apollo

The god is never chillin', hot like a volcano

Once I met up with this bandolero

Why'd he make me bust him in his head with his banjo?

I put MC's on the ceiling like Michelangelo

Did the Sixteenth [Sistine] Chapel

Known to kick and grapple, so you couldn't test the Real McCoy

The Black Cowboys

And this is the showdown...

Repeat chorus

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written by MARTIN, CHRISTOPHER E/DAVIS, KENDRICK J

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing

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