Mr. Nigga

Mos Def

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    Say ho, everybody say ho
    By the way yo
    I said shake your soul like way back in the day-yo
    By the way yo, everybody say ho
    Everybody say hooooo- hooo
    Everybody say ho

    And check it out now
    Who is the cat eatin out on the town
    And make the whole dining room turn they head round
    Mr Nigga, Nigga Nigga
    He got the speakers in the trunk with the bass on crunk
    Who be ridin up in the highrise elevator
    Other tenants who be prayin they ain't the new neighbor
    Mr Nigga, Nigga Nigga
    They try to play him like a chump cause he got what they want

    He under thirty years old but already he's a pro
    Designer trousers slung low ccause his pockets stay swoll'
    Could afford to get up and be anywhere he go
    V.I.P. at the club, backstage at the show
    (Yes y'all) the best crib, the best clothes
    Hottest whips on the road neck and wrists on froze (say word)
    Checks with O's o-o-o-o-ohs
    Straight all across the globe watch got three time-zones
    Keep the digital phone up to his dome
    Two assistants, two bank accounts, two homes
    One problem; even with the O's on his check
    The po-po stop him and show no respect
    "Is there a problem officer?" Damn straight, it's called race
    That motivate the jake (woo-woo) to give chase
    Say they want you successful, but that ain't the case
    You livin large, your skin is dark they flash a light in your face

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    Now, who is cat dining out on the town
    Maitre'd wanna take a whole year to sit him down
    Mr Nigga, Nigga Nigga
    He got the speakers in the trunk with the bass on crunk
    Now, who is the cat at Armani buyin wears
    With the tourists who be askin him, do you work here?
    Mr Nigga, Nigga Nigga
    Nigga Nigga

    Yo, the Abstract with the Mighty Mos Def
    White folks got it muffled across beneath they breathe
    "I didn't say it.."
    But they'll say it out loud again
    When they get with they close associates and friends
    You know, sneak it in with they friends at the job
    Happy hour at the bar while this song is in they car
    And even if they've never said it, lips stay sealed
    They actions reveal how their hearts really feel
    Like, late night I'm on a first class flight
    The only brother in sight the flight attendent catch fright
    I sit down in my seat, 2C
    She approach officially talkin about, "Excuse me"
    Her lips curl up into a tight space
    Cause she don't believe that I'm in the right place
    Showed her my boarding pass, and then she sort of gasped
    All embarrassed put an extra lime on my water glass
    An hour later here she comes by walkin past
    "I hate to be a pest but my son would love your autograph"
    (Wowwww.. Mr. Nigga I love you, I have all your albums!..)
    They stay on nigga patrol on american roads
    And when you travel abroad they got world nigga law
    Some folks get on a plane go as they please
    But I go over seas and I get over-SEIZED
    London Heathrow, me and my people
    They think that illegal's a synonym for negro
    Far away places, customs agents flagrant
    They think the dark face is smuggle weight in they cases
    Bags inspected, now we arrested
    Attention directed to contents of our intestines
    Urinalyis followed by X-rays
    Interrogated and detained til damn near the next day
    No evidence, no appology and no regard
    Even for the big american rap star
    For us especially, us most especially
    A Mr Nigga VIP jail cell just for me
    "If I knew you were coming I'd have baked a cake
    Just got some shoe-polish, painted my face"
    They say they want you successful, but then they make it stressful
    You start keepin pace, they start changin up the tempo

    Now, who is cat riding out on the town
    State trooper wanna stop him in his ride, pat him down
    Mr Nigga, Nigga Nigga
    He got the speakers in the trunk with the bass on crunk
    Now, who is the cat with the hundred dollar bill
    They gotta send it to the back to make sure the shit is real
    Mr Nigga, Nigga Nigga
    Nigga Nigga.. Nigga

    You can laugh and criticize Michael Jackson if you wanna
    Woody Allen, molested and married his step-daughter
    Same press kickin dirt on Michael's name
    Show Woody and Soon-Yi at the playoff game, holdin hands
    Sit back and just bug, think about that
    Would he get that type of dap if his name was Woody Black?
    O.J. found innocent by a jury of his peers
    And they been fuckin with that nigga for last five years
    Is it fair, is it equal, is it just, is it right?
    Do you do the same shit when the defendent face is white?
    If white boys doin it, well, it's success
    When I start doin, well, it's suspect
    Don't hate me, my folks is poor, I just got money
    America's five centuries deep in cotton money
    You see a lot of brothers caked up, yo straight up
    It's new, y'all livin off of slave traders paper
    But I'm a live though, yo I'm a live though
    I'm puttin up the big swing for my kids yo
    Got my mom the fat water-front crib yo
    I'm a get her them pretty bay windows
    I'm a cop a nice home to provide in
    A safe environment for seeds to reside in
    A fresh whip for my whole family to ride in
    And if I'm still Mr Nigga, I won't find it suprisin

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Chris E. Martin y Dante Smith

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