mr. nigga
Say ho, everybody say ho
Bop-po quay yo
I said take it slow like way back in the day-yo
Bop-po quay yo, everybody say ho
Everybody say hooooo- hooo
Everybody say ho
And check it out now
Who is cat eating out on the town
And make the whole dining room turn they head around
Mr nigga, nigga nigga
He got the speakers in the trunk
With the bass on crunk
Who be riding up in the highrise elevator
Other tenants who be praying they ain’t the new neighbor
Mr nigga, nigga nigga
They try to play him like a chump
Cause he got what they want
He under thirty years old
But already he’s a pro
Designer trousers slung low
Because his pockets stay swoll’
Could afford to get up and be anywhere he go
Vip at the club, backstage at the show
(yes y’all) the best crib, the best clothes
Hottest whips on the road
Neck and wrists on froze (say word)
Checks with o’s o-o-o-o-ohs
Straight all across the globe
Watch got three time-zones
Keep a digital phone up to his dome
Two assistants
Two bank accounts, two homes
One problem
Even with the o’s on his check
The po-po stop him and show no respect
"is there a problem officer?"
Damn straight, it’s called race
That motivate the jake (woo-woo) to give chase
Say they want you successful, but that ain’t the case
You livin large, your skin is dark
They flash a light in your face
Now, who is cat dining out on the town
Me’tradie wanna take a whole year to sit him down
Mr nigga, nigga nigga
He got the speakers in the trunk
With the bass on crunk
Now, who is the cat at armani buying wears
With the tourists who be asking him, do you work here?
Mr nigga, nigga nigga
Nigga nigga
Yo, the abstract with the mighty mos def
White folks got it muffled across beneath they breathe
"i didn’t say it.."
But they’ll say it out loud again
When they deal with their close associates and friends
You know
Sneak it in with they friends at the job
Happy hour at the bar
While this song is in they car
And even if they’ve never said it, lips stay sealed
Their actions reveal how their hearts really feel
Like, late night i’m on a first class flight
The only brother in sight
The flight attendent catch fright
I sit down in my seat, 2c
She approach officially talking about, "excuse me"
Her lips curl up into a tight space
She don’t believe that i’m in the right place
Showed her my boarding pass,
And then she sort of gasped
All embarrassed put an extra lime in my water glass
An hour later here she comes by walking past
"i hate to be a pest but my son would love your autograph"
They stay on nigga patrol on american roads
And when you travel abroad they got world nigga laws
Some folks get on a plane go as they please
But i go over seas and i get over siezed
London-heathro, me and my people
They think that illegal’s a synonym for negro
Far away places, customs agents flagrant
They think the dark face is smuggle waiting in cases
Bags inspected, now we arrested
Attention directed to contents of our intestines
Urinanalyis followed by x-rays
Interegated and detained to damn near the next day
No evidence, no appology and no regard
Even for the big american rap star
For us especially, us most especially,
A mr nigga vip jail cell just for me
"if i knew you were coming i’d have baked a cake
Just got some shoe-polish, painted my face"
They say they want you successful
But then they make it stressful
You start keeping pace, they start changing up the tempo
Now, who is cat riding out on the town
State trooper want to stop in his ride, pat him down
Mr nigga, nigga nigga
He got the speakers in the trunk
With the bass on crunk
Now, who is the cat with the hundred dollar bill
They gotta send it to the back to make sure the shit is real
Mr nigga, nigga nigga
Nigga nigga nigga
You can laugh and criticize michael jackson if you wanna
Woody allen, molested and married his step-daughter
Same press kicking dirt on michael’s name
Show woody and soon-ye at the playoff game, holding hands
Sit back and just bug, think about that
Would he get that type of dap if his name was woody black?
Oj found innocent by a jury of his peers
They been fucking with that nigga for last five years
Is it fair, is it equal, is it just, is it right?
Do they do the same shit when the defendent face is white?
If white boys doing it, well, it’s success
When i start doing, well, it’s suspect
Don’t hate me, my folks is poor, i just got money
America’s five centuries deep in cotton money
You see a lot of brothers caked up, yo straight up
It’s new, y’all living off of slave traders paper
But i’m a live though, yo i’m a live though
Putting up the big swing for my kids yo
Got my mom the fat water-front crib yo
I’m a get her them pretty bay windows
I’m a cop a nice home to provide in
A safe environment for seeds to reside in
A fresh whip for my whole family to ride in
And if i’m still mr nigga, i won’t find it suprising
- Lyrics:
Mr. Nigga - Mos Def - Album: Black On Both Sides
- Artist: Mos Def