* this album was only released promotionally (bootlegs do exist though)
"I ain't black, I ain't white!" (Repeat 12x)
[Zev Love X]
Well I'll be a AIDS sleazer, if I had skeezer
After skeezer stacked up like ice cubes in my freezer
I'd rather live to be an old geezer, O.E. squeezer
Any times I need a stress easer
Like Ebeneezer Scrooge I'm rude, my batting average is huge
Making street hits like Quaker with the grits
For as a monkey spits, I never gots the sh**s
Some rappers is faking, they silicon tits with plastic nipples
Pa** the ripple, or anything sippable
Except for plum juice, the plums is sure grippable
Slip and slidin', the next thing they say is we're with pit
Who's to flip? Who's the b**h to get f**ed by a clip?
Ask Tyson, he knows about a ho is rotten juice
Worth fifteen cent, and burning like a loose
I take it to the grudge match, and she made my budget budge
Kick her in her snatch, and drown her in some fudge
I judge trees by the fruits and the deepness of the roots
Hard packed, with rats, true recruits of the flutes
Some come in bum, some with zoot suit apparel
Either way to wreck shop, lock, stock, and barrel
Off chimps I gets pumped, never swept, ‘specially when I hump
Gets, dough by the lump sum then hop, skip, and jump
Sip wine in the dumps or alley ways of any state
Where I roll, bounce, rock, skate
Life will concentrate, concentration
Location's Strong Island, where skins is on strike like Penn Station
If you don't believe me, kid come, I'll show you
Where lurks the black ba*tards who act like they know you
They say 'What up black?" I say "What up?" I'm thinkin' you black
Has to be hard they way they master how to act black
Give my monkey slack, a funky track, still wack, you're black
You s** your teeth like it's your back
"Ya black ba*tard!"
[Some ragga toaster]
Ayo, yo bum raga a la
You ain't nothing but a damn black ba*tard, man
Your mama was a ba*tard, and your daddy, too
[Zev Love X]
Yo black, yo black, I'm back ransacking through the stacks
Of maniacal thoughts, I brought to distort the wack
Mistakes of some, so Zev says "Keep 'em slum"
Styles to delf, rum is on my right
Of black ba*tards and b**hes, which reminds me, I left them out
Two From my list of sh** I don't give a f** about
Smokes an artist and a butcher wears a smock
Like a butcher I gots beef with a looptie for my co*k
Call me a carpenter from how brick my lumber got
Some, now, they try and yard a young black bumbaclot
It was Ed Lover's birthday party, a block from the spot
On stage I heard some off-beat "Lick shots, lick shots!"
Well goddamn, guess who, looking b**hy as hell
It's Parker Lewis, well well, I brings a L
I gave a "Beef beef" look, he acted like he couldn't tell
I guess that was the s**er in him, ready set to swell
The door said it was insane, at price to maintain
But damn it has to be hard the way they master how to act black
Or off the funky track to rock the house in vein
As we sat with curiosity and sipped champagne
See I became undergorund since the life in the street
The love of the beat, large is the fleet
That will remain underground for all my boys whose souls sleep
Six feet deeper than the soles of my feet
It's like that, never the wack, and actual fact
It's like this, sweet as a kiss, as if you got the knack
I've thought I've seen the worst with the pimps and the macks
And the cracks and stone packs, s**ers keep popping that
"I ain't black, I ain't white!" (Repeat 12x)