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tell 'em what it is son?
this is black doom.
wrote this for you.
this is black doom, baby
and i need you..
and you, and you..
respeck my issues..issues..
respeck my issues...
treat 'em like new shoes (fresh kicks, fresh kicks)
treat 'em like new shoes
don't scuff 'em don't scuff 'em don't scuff
wack ass niggas don't discuss 'em
uh - uh, and don't trust 'em...
with a NEW CD,
talking bout they got an album please..
((Bitch, please...))
..bitch please....
bitch this is DOOM...
((black!))
...wrote this for you...
and yours...
It's the Attillaca rap attacka',
flowing like ratta-tatta,
hold the mic before and after
cause the flow is super captivating,
operating from the fm to the am,
man, that's MORE than motivatin'
THATS the reason for the hatin'
seasons for the changing like,
miller-mike arrangements,
i be focusing the cadence,
keep it groovin' for occasions like this, and like that,
and when the venues payin', i spit and rap,
and when that beat switch back from the boom to that bap
then i, I freestyle that, and be quick to adapt,
to surrounding environments...black
bring it back for those who wonder where fire went;
8-6-SLAPS on the map, bitch, find the shit;
gimme five years, i be set for retirement,
black att; jolly good chap, so inspiring...
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i ain't too cool to show you just how you move me,
girl you groove me with your rhythm and sway
((rhythm and rhythm and sway))
I'll take the time to free your mind from whatever,
help you realign your inner-chi
((inner-chi))
I feel forever with you, you
((forever))
Is so much better with two,
((So, Much Better))
before we go and get so closer
to never-be, there's something
you should know I believe
((know I believe))
Never will your honey
get you close
to this money
Got to know that you cool, girl
don't act funny,
cause my barber over there
((where!?))
will part your hair with a
switch blade...a switch blade
Sentimental, with the riddle, in the middle (repeat)
The DJ loves me, and this party is grooving
to the riddle of my rhythm and sway
((rhythm and rhythm and sway))
I'm never stressing, second guessing,
no worries, got to open up to be with me
((be with me))
You say forever with you, you
((forever))
Is so much better with Two
yeah, whatever
Before we go and get so closer
to never-be, there something
you should know I believe
((know i believe))
Never will your money, get you close
to this honey, got to know
that you cool, boy
don't act funny,
cause my cousin over there
((wussup))
will part your hair, with an
A.K.....and A.K.
Sentimental with the Riddle in the Middle (repeat)
MF Dumile's Verse
N/A
Hey Hey Put your Blade Away
I wanna roll around around around
Put Your A.K. Away
i wanna roll around around around
with you, with you,
with you, with you,
((repeat))
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que the song
que the beat
cipher, complete
dope bars,
fresh steez
cool car,
new breeze
hey you,
emcee
dope rhymes
move me
new you,
new me,
we'll rise
you'll see
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what can i say?
really been hard day
i just wanna parlay
PPAAAARRRR-
LAAAYYYYYYY
no swag, just sway
baby that's all day
I just wanna parlay
PPAAARRRRRR-
LLLLAAAAAYYY
what can i say?
I be ballin' on the beat with that no-look pass
three point shot bankin' off that glass,
house negroes be sho' nuff mad, like.
'whooo dat nigga up on dat nag?'
black atticus with the d'jango swag,
first in my class, i'm SUPPOSED to pass
rock mo' rings then froto bag, and shoot
lightening like gandolf's staff
did you know that half,
of forever, was forever?
better do that math...
you ain't clever but you sho' nuff fast, need ta'
slow down buddy , save that gas
we all know that you low on that cash;
you don't make it rain, it just drizzles fast....
scatter showers on a stripper's ass,
how you shout your OWN name?!
rumple stil-skin ass....
get on my nerves; black doom:
everybody gettin' served
hook:
what can i say?
really been hard day
i just wanna parlay
PPAAAARRRR-
LAAAYYYYYYY
no swag, just sway
baby that's all day
I just wanna parlay
PPAAARRRRRR-
LLLLAAAAAYYY
what can i say?
verse 2
ok my freestyles, gotta free flow,
and my free flow's got a free fall,
when i spit bars on a sea saw,
with a keytar, like "yee haw"
i see yall,
with the cars, with the big dogs,
trynna take charge, with a cigar
named swish-ar, and a thick pawg, like
good gawd! - we all
know what i means;
to be the biggest fish flopping out the bowl of the scene;
the over flow is supreme..the over flow is supreme
cause every dab
of every splish
of every splash
has a stream
hook the fins, for the win,
reel 'em in, with a dream,
or a pad, and a pen, or a rhyme
with a scheme,
that's swing through the bling
that is blinding the kings and the queens
and the fiends at the heart and the soul
of this heart, there's a hole
that explodes and implodes
i'm supposed to expose
all the flaws in ya shows
and the bars in ya prose
and the hoes that you chose
and the scag in this bowl that you told us was 'Dro'
but No....
this ain't dro.
no, ((yo))
this ain't dro...
no ((yo))
this ain't dro...
rap life, and the mic;
both of those, let it go
hook:
what can i say?
really been hard day
i just wanna parlay
PPAAAARRRR-
LAAAYYYYYYY
no swag, just sway
baby that's all day
I just wanna parlay
PPAAARRRRRR-
LLLLAAAAAYYY
what can i say?
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never trust a big butt and a smile, nigga...
mash up
tell me when will i
hear you rhyme again
cause i got a fresh cut (baby)
and a pair of new chucks (sugar)
well it's that grimm stoker, cassavova, rap super nova
pam grier in a choker hot; got it nova scotia locked, down
to the polka dot sock; WUDDUP HIP HOP?!
let's pause and pop a toast to wake 'em up like Al roper,
in the loafers....i want my DMC poster...
style so nice, it opens doors for the chauffeur,
you hear "black bout to rap", then the shit's over
so grab the toilet paper..and figure it out
i USED to tell my haters "keep my name out ya mouth"
but then i figure out, that that shit was abuse..
cause THAT was like the ONLY time they ever spoke the truth
and who am i...to keep the message from the youth?
beenie man in a suit? disappearing like 'poof'
reappearing like "fwoof", flash mob, dance troup?
trynna match black's style, dog, REALLY no use;
that's like trynna hang giraffe,
short tree; long noose,
get loose like
black, seed, bush bush bush
chase moonshine with that smokey mountain kush;
upon second look; ya mom's a hot toots;
i'll have on the mic, drunk beneath these lights
like we were at toots; karaoke night;
cause i'm a milf hunter, in real fkin' life like
"i really want u mommy, come n' give ya boy some sloppy
i KNOW u want the album; i'll burn ya son a copy
i really want you mommy come n' give ya boy some sloppy
and please let me tape it so my girlfriend can copy"
copy?
..and or
capiche?
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there's a science to this art
so i prod and i poke
if i'm ever gonna "get it",
then i can't lose hope
when the bank sends me statements
like some 'inside joke',
every month i'm getting letters saying:
"you're still broke"
but i know i'm getting better, when them shady ass folk
take a break from the hating just to tell me i'm dope
then they quote what i wrote -- quote what i spoke
now them lyrics and hymns..
spin off they lips like spokes on rims;
most folk-choke-when-the-bloke-go in....
((yeah........ moving on))
message to my smokers and my studio tokers;
walking in a cloud like a broken flame thrower;
when the beat change over, here's some shit you outta know, sir:
smoking all that dope don't make you doper.
i know for......
MOST of yall, that's game over.
i brought the pea coat, prepared for the cold shoulders;
as far as the eye can see from the chevy nova,
told ya girl i'm coming over but..she ain't really listen...
now it's dripping off her chin, man, trippin
whistle while she working so ref-like,
bobby that head to the beat real hood like
until i felt the teeth on the wood, like good night
and i'm fresh outta wet wipes;
get yo ass out at the red light.
place my sights on the future and set flight
to ensure beats and mics need metlife,
i'm the type..to come through with the lead pipe
to make sure the name on the check is spelled right
chilling with the villian over seas that rep right
((why'd you kill so many emcees?!))
..... it felt right.....
((oh!))
.........moving on....
big toolie on a moolie
spit unruly like a loogie
outta uzi, nigga, who he think he is
OH-- that's Atticus
OH -- that nigga spit like a tantrum
hundred foot hand gun, handsome,
hand some body my CD
now.....
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Lyrics:
hook:
why you try to play?
I try to fathom the strength,
it simply must take,
for your muscles to create..
a smile beneath the weight
of all that damn fake in your face
and as of late, i find it hard to relate
to those who CAN'T see it...
cause in my eyes,
the mffkaz is behemoth
like a Godzilla sized..pair of Adidas...
you uh..'parently eager,
to stab him in the back,
been plottin' on Att since he was datin'
Magnita Black...
that's why you hatin' on your leisure,
you lean against the car,
but i'm the one with the keys, sir
and my procedure?
'raise heat, break fever'
if I was yall? I couldn't stomach me either;
always growing and shit,
always flowing so rich,
stimulating conversation,
always knowing some shit;
ya whole face in a grip, like i'm boinkin ya chick
but bitch please..i wouldn't do that do my dick
especially if she dumb enough to let yo ass hit it BARE
with no condom, from various positions...
amber alert for all the periods she missing
while you lying bout you "love her",
wont admit you got children;
you lost her, you losin', i move into position
to keep rockin' and groovin'
continue on my mission...
good luck with all that gossip,
and trynna make a livin'
if i see you at the door, make sure they charge yo ass admission..
..make sure they charge yo ass admission,
cause even though you hatin'.
i STILL love the pimpin...
I STILL love the pimpin'
'speck out ya eye before
u talk about my vision..
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THE HEARTLINE written by JJ WOODS
this be the feeling, baby
this be the heartline,
this what you wanted darling
show me the starshine
all over the world
love you girl,
you're morning night
you bring life
you're everything
you're everything
so many names
let me explain
she abbi,
she umi,
ebbi yae
she nana
she nee
she hold' on,
she moves me
she cousin
she sister
love her like beat love dilla
turn me to sound boy killa
future she will deliver
tee-e-sah
she e-mah
ee-da-da-dee-dah-dee-dah
she sestra, hermana,
fire that danced on water
her love is soldiers armor
she more than single mother
for those with absent father
she's everybody daughter
so pardon me
i'm a king
i'm nothing
without my queen
girl you know you love me good
you know you love me good
((your lovin' good baby))
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Hook:
I said it just wouldn't be the same
if everybody was the same
indubitably remained,
perpetually the same
if we all had diamond chains
if we all rolled in a range,
Oh My God, be the same...
if everybody was the same
and nothing ever ever changed
and everything had just remained
i swear this life would be so LAME
it be so
lame
it be so
lame
it be so
it be so
verse:
an isolated observation on the daily operations
of a people on a planet in ignorant syncopation
yeah the world's ((nikah mot))* , ground hog dayin'
same situation, recurring, replayin'
with the same conversation, same revelations;
'sumthin' sumthin' sumthin, nah mean, know'm sayin'?
mama still prayin' // choir still sangin'
california blazin' and the flames keep raising
while the same broke nigga swear to god 'crime payin'
be the same broke nigga sangin' when they fed time facin'
from the block to a box and still set claimin'
swear to god they hate drama, and still keep bangin'
mad baby mamas and they still dick swayin'
kids tugging on they socks, and they still don't claim 'em,
cut ya cable off and ya still won't pay 'em
xbox pawn shopped and yall still keep playin'
chant:
same life. same dreams. same goals.
same rings. same bling. same gold.
same thug. same club. same hoes.
same drugs. same mind still closed.
hook:
I said it just wouldn't be the same
if everybody was the same
indubitably remained,
perpetually the same
if we all had diamond chains
if we all rolled in a range,
Oh My God, be the same...
if everybody was the same
and nothing ever ever changed
and everything had just remained
i swear this life would be so LAME
it be so
lame
it be so
lame
it be so
it be so
Chant:
same life. same dreams. same goals.
same rings. same bling. same gold.
same thug. same club. same hoes.
same drugs. same mind still closed.
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This project is Black Atticus' spin on some MF DOOM classics, as he pays homage and tribute to one of his favorite hip hop innovators.
All hooks were written by JJ WOODS aka Atticus
All songs were mixed by S.T.A.R.R. Da Poet
Project recorded in Good Guy Collective Studios
THIS MIXTAPE IS FOR PROMO USE ONLY
released July 22, 2016