[Boots] I write my lyrics on parking tickets and summons to the court I scribbled this on an application for county support I practice this like a sport Met Donald Trump and he froze up Standing on his Bentley yelling "Pimps down, hoes up" Some tryin' to front off Break her ass a clump off We gon' stop the world and make y'all motherfuckers jump off This is my resume slash resignation A ransom note with proposed legislation A fevered ultimatum you should take it verbatim Cause I got two bangin' pieces and you don't wanna date em' Flyin' kites for my folks at home Who takin' tokes alone We payin' rent on shit they ain't even sposed to own Narratin' through my verse, agitatin' when ya curse It's a million motherfuckers just waitin' on the first Anticipatin' on the worst, wanna weightin' up ya purse Shook the jobby job down at noon and don't disperse They wouldn't pay ya ass as far as they can throw you They think you punkin' but they don't know you Dissin' turf operata, play with twelve shot berettas Buy the Burger King workers and we slappin' on ya lettuce Wrote that in the back of those apartments A coupon from agricultural departments When we put down the X-O, we can let the threats go And start shit, it's the ghetto manifesto
[Chorus x2] That's what I'm talking about Make me scream and shout East, West, North, and South Gonna turn this party out Hey, hey
[* People talking *]
[Boots] Call me bird cause of my legs but my ass don't sing Got a house arrest anklet but it don't bling bling The homie with a cell but that shit don't ring But at lights out bars clang and souls get stang Now it's the hustlin' sound, trick where they muscle around blacks Make ya thoughts heavy, drop a joint and make the ground crack Even renowned historians have found that The people only bounce back when they pound back So I take out a spray can and paste the pavement Defacin' gravements of a sufferin' nation The files are flagrant and that's the fragrance I overheard them askin' vagrance for patients So check the liner notes, I steal my finer quotes For d-boys tryin' to flow them Gucci's and designer boats And party liner jokes and all kinds of folks Who all kind of broke But bought twenties cause they feel like a lot of smoke The trees we got lifted by made our feet dangle So when I say burn one I mean the Star-Spangled Let's all get high from the income angle Bump this at the party even if it ain't the single Here's a slum serenade, on razor blades and grenades By nannies and maids who be polishin' the suede You could let the sess blow but let's make the sets grow Into brigades with the ghetto manifesto