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lirik lagu professor griff - real african people 'rap' part 1

[verse]
rap, real african people
what’s happening, brother man? who me? yeah, you, the one with the 210 iq
life is what you make it
wait a minute, i’m just an unbehaved slave
untaught by the man from the cave
yo, bro. oh, that’s right, don’t bro you
you have a bullsh~t degree. b.s., ph.d., m.d., b.a.d. degree
you have 33 and a third degree, but you still don’t have a proper knowledge of yourself. know your culture, history
god rely on, i mean religion
know your past, well you better get past that part of it
so now you’re a new jack mental slave trying to behave
you have 2.5 children. no, you have 2.5 vanilla children
you live in a white house with a white picket fence, 2.5 cars
i understand what you mean
when you constantly chase the american dream
with your grafted miseducation from the soho in paris, yale, duke, oxford, york of england, or pardon me?
what about your dog, i mean your mythical god, that you sit on the youth for a god for nothing book that you misunderstand?
and if you understood, it would still have to be explained to you to get a clear view of you?
ding dong, surprise! blue eyes, green eyes. i’ll take one pair
oh, my kiki hair? give me some of your blonde blue eyes, blue neck, fish neck, freshly mined cents
and while you’re at it, give me some to extend my extensions
please, above government cheese
freeze, for you bleed for the same need
as your apartheid brothers and sisters
how real is your unreal is unreal
it’s complex, it’s complex, it’s very complex
“i was the first” syndrome. i was the first one on my job. i was the first one in my neighborhood
good, what color is your god?
d~mn, can’t you understand, man? it’s green
or do you like the other color, which is no color?
my god, white god? or how real is your jesus?
handbag? what a drag
with your non~loving self, oreo hatred persuasion
i want to be a rap star, you say?
how much does it pay?
m~o~n~e, bye~bye. don’t miss this diss
there’s a chat slab in progress
don’t miss or i’ll take you downtown, clown
my mama didn’t name me that
a n~gga,cool shot handball, stoned out of your mind?
no, that’s not my name
johnson, jones, culpepper. o’reilly, o’toole, o’poole, o’brien
i got a client, and he’s sick as h~ll trying to sell me a leftover dream
that he steamed up while getting cracked on some ice twice
now he’s gone, never to return among the living again
you committed ultimate sin
you slept with eve and the godd~mn apple you did not receive
don’t call me a nig—garbage, bag, bang, on your chest, bulletproof vest
don’t flex. you’re next to invest in the stock market
fell, someone to h~ll. took a trip to toki~oreo, token oreo
who do you think is trying to buy nabisco?
straight to jail. don’t pass the blow
do not collect your farewell, check this out
the usa or the usa?
the union of south africa, or the united snakes of america?
i like that, but you got to understand this
i’m just a juvenile with style, and in the meanwhile, i’m unemployed
trying to avoid the cause of being dumb, gifted, and black
africa
i’m just an african. i’m just an african, black negro. i’m just an african, negro black american
no, no, no, no, wait a minute. i’m just an african, negro, newbie american black negro
sometimes when i want to be down with the true—

- lirik lagu professor griff

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