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Yeah, yeah, ahem Yeah, I woke up feeling black couldn't be better Son woke up with that shine couldn't beat the weather Son woke up feeling fly didn't need a feather These the letters, me, a G forever, you get a e for effort Don't lower case me, no don't play me that's a big G Been moving 88 keys a week since I was 15 Sunday morning special, ebony, and ivories You can find me with the bands while the choir sings Frankly, it's understood, I ain't Frank Lucas, even less Underwood I'm more Frank Kay, next to where Laurence stood That's a hey, whole choir boy from the hood Yeah I'm from the same soil as Gloria James' son Gassin' my hood up, my oil need a change, uh, ain't nothing 3:30 ain't the time it's the code, 3:30 ain't a line it's my mode I think I'm gettin' back to the old me Without that Cali boy, really you don't know me Had to get the rings so I left Still home, got it inked on my left Walkin' in like I'm the man of the year Heard a lot of no, now I'm the man of the yeah It's no problem that the Trinity can't answer back to Big 3 over my head so please don't Chance The Rapper I'm back bruh SongtexteI woke up feeling black, proud to be out here The crew is stacked, ain't just me out here Who is that? Homie Kareem out here More than some tees out here We screaming, "We out here" Gotta find a way to monetize black twitter So they gotta pay if they tryna laugh with us Eyes on the prize, are we there yet? Nope Eyes to the skies, what you staring at? Hope I think I'm getting back to the old me That "screw your man-tan, new age, minstrel show" me Not bamboozled everything black God given So when they tell me, "Fall back" Y'all tripping The narratives ain't similar, they parallel On heaven as it is on earth, the paracletes to parasail Reformed is not a label I want you to tag me with The reformation was for Catholics not Africans I'm black, some days too much Feeling strapped, tryna pay bills with two bucks Feeling wack, watching other cats move up Feeling trapped, like you shooting craps, you stuck Believe me, feel like an all day job, it ain't easy Being black is dumb hard Somebody always saying that we pull the race card Then America turned around and pulled the Trump card On guard when the squad car pop guns off If you comply, resist, or you run off See your one crime is your skin, if your tone's dark You're the lead role, getting killed on the film, with the phone's out Whose the next victim getting screwed by the system Would they dig you a grave, or would they make you a slave Dirt cheap tombstone or 13th loophole just to make you behave It's insane Aus Songtexte Mania