Young black male I try to effect by kicking the facts And stacking much mail I'm packing a gat cause guys wanna jack And fuck going to jail Cause I ain't a crook, despite how I look I don't sell yayo They judging a brother like covers on books Follow me into a flow I'm sure you know, which way to go I'm hitting 'em out of the doors So slip on the slope, let's skip on the flow I'm fucking the sluts and hoes The bigger the butts the tighter the clothes The gimminy jimminy grows Then whaddaya know, it's off with some clothes Rowd when the crowd says ho That let's me know, they know I can flow Love when they come to my shows I get up and go with skins before When I'm collecting my dough I never respect, the one that I back The quicker the nigga can rap The bigger the check Now watch how they sweat What kind of style is that? The style of a mack, and ready to jack I rendered up piles of black The wacker the pack, the fatter the smack I hate it when real niggas bust They hate when I cuss, they threaten to bust I had enough of the fuss I bust what I bust and cuss when I must They gave me a charge for sales For selling the tales... of young black males