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letra de as we proceed - curt@!n$

[verse 1]
they throwing fists in the air for black power
keep a brick, you can smell the white powder
america eat its young like jeff dahmer
don’t got a knife cause i only spread knowledge
vanna white coming through in a hour
cause money talks and i’m tryna buy a vowel
in that box, there’s a few more commas
i made gold from clay like muhammad
third eye blind, they still can’t face it
live right, spread love, is the basics
sorry doc but i’m running out of patience
i’m heading back to the future in the am
they ain’t met an mc this fly yet
my mind fly, my brain is my jet

[hook]
as we proceed, to give you what you need
to give you what you need
to give you what you need
as we proceed, to give you what you need
to give you what you need
to give you what you need

[verse 2]
they throwing fists in the air for black power
they keep running their head for that drama
i’m tryna reach my goals like renaldo
my mind think much bigger than the sky go
in my hood, they hang out by the store fronts
ain’t no business going on man, the stores fronts
when the feds come around, they don’t talk much
so you better reconsider when they offer
when you leave, ain’t no telling where you’ll end up
while you out on the streets, you should invest
maybe you can buy your freedom with the interest
huey said we could get there in ten steps
black hoodie, black shades, black timberlands
black home, black gram, black everything
black chrome 9 millimeter clip
i run the streets, olympic gold medal sh-t

[hook]

[verse 3]
they throwing fists in the air for black power
that infrared on your head for that dollar
i can tell you the weather with no problem
the sun shine he gon’ meet lead showers
should’ve known ’bout f-cking with them mobsters
they got 9’s, they got techs, they got choppers
bust a motherf-cker head like piñata’s
the wrong colors might affect your lower chakra
and my n-ggas in the club popping bottles
loud, money, ain’t no need for a convo-
black shades, black leathers like they rockstars
fully ball and b-tches they call ’em monsters
so much chips, she went ginger on ’em
so many bottles of spade, she reneged on ‘im
play your cards right, b-tch, you might get up on it
f-ck her brains out, forget about her in the morning

[hook]

- curtn

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