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B.b.s. (Black Sheep)

Crumbs to the floor Bums off the wall Stage lamb they're sure I hate ya all like a real brawl One to the two, two to the are E to S-E baby pall Doin my thing with my peeps I bounce around the city like I was a personal check, see I'm only runnin with niggaz catchin, dayroom wreck be Keepin it real with appeal I gets filthy like I'm dirty Straight up and down you'll say that them the niggaz seven thirty What nah, bumba claat babble like you got to say Neither one no got jack, then me not come to play So move it away I say before you can't move it away Black Sheep, aight? Black Sheep, aiyyyy! Iiiii, oweee, who? You so I'm rockin it on the regular I pick it up like a fro and your radio's fly when the Sheep's on the dial YOu flaunt it and freak it and flip it, freely with style On top of the pile, funky laundry, for Ron G Crazy shout out to papi pop, and Kanji Keepin it tight making it right since I left Though it was never wrong, don't hate me cause I'm def I'm just Bubblin brown sugar (4x) Plop, plop... fizz fizz, oh what a relief it is To be the epitome of an MC, gettin biz-E after are, are after D S at the end yes y'all it's me No need to doubt it, New York's got my loyalty Boogie down astoundin sound representin royalty Oop-a-daisy maybe, opps-a-daisy Boots upside the head of niggaz who played D Emblamin like fluid I'm keepin bullets like you threw it Tip-top, hip-hop, Black Sheep, new shit The brown bubblin down to rip it on the double and it's been three joints everybody thinks we"re smugglin Ahem ahem, yeash well you know me I put dope inside your vinyls, cassettes, and CD's A shoe-in when I kick it in the Bronx like Danny Branko My flows dodge trucks when I pickup like a Bronco Bubblin brown sugar (4x) Yo, I save the drama for my mama comma for your comedy With a condom for your momma when she's up on top of me I call it jealousy and you can call me hoe Cause I was hittin bahbazahsn that you're never gonna know Alls well, that ends well, here's to welfare And friends that confront, and lovers that care I get down Uptown from dawn to dusk be Takin the whoopin streets like I was Billy McCluskie Fuck retro, nineties in Harlem you'll get wet bro Get low, or you might need assistance from your head hoe Dolo wreakin havoc on your phono the igniter I'm smokin cheeba sonny, I run with street fighters And I'm not hearin your noise fearin your boys playin with toys I'm crashin with a passion trashin and smashin decoys Bright lights in action, yours you'll beg my pardon Cause you can't be a Harlem player unless you play in Harlem