Amelia, it was just a false alarm I was driving across the burning desert When I spotted six jet planes Leaving six white vapor trails across the bleak terrain It was the hexagram of the heavens it was the strings of my guitar The drone of flying engines

We’ll let you guys prophesy We gon' see the future first I'll mean something to you These bitches want Nikes They looking for a check Tell em it ain't likely Said she need a ring like Carmelo Must be on that white like Othello All you want is Nikes

Walking through the front door, Seeing your black dress hit the floor, Uh honey there sure ain't nothing like you loving me All night long, Tuxedo waiters, black tie, White table clothes and red wine, We've been planning, this night, Looking forward to

Cigarette smoker, I'm sorry But we're all unsure how much you've had But we think that you outta maybe not have anymore Sat at the side of the pool at one of your houses With wet white trousers on And worlds collide as the evening continues, the dignity

It's your neighborhood drug dealer Uh, I'm your neighborhood drug dealer I'm your neighborhood drug dealer Neighborhood drug dealer One, two, what it be? Michael Jordan, white, bitch, 23 Uh, it's your neighborhood drug dealer Bet you hear my pipes rev

On my not so straight and narrow path Waitin' at a stop light yesterday As a funeral procession made its way through the gates Watched it roll up a winding road Through a field of green With white headstones All in a row And it made me think about where

It don't matter if you're black or white But, if you're thinkin' about my baby Yea, yea, yea now I took my baby on a Saturday bang Boy is that girl with you Yes we're one and the same Now I believe in miracles And a miracle has happened tonight

Young black America Yeah, I was on that corner, tryna get my coins up Coppers run up on us and we turn to Jackie Joyner White man kill a black man, they never report us Black man kill a white man, they gon' start a war up Mama she was sour, sippin' on

Connect the dots Link with the connect and we collect them blocks (that white perico) Running to a pussy and collect his watch Chasers, chasers, chasers, chasers, gang! When we catch him, headshot, disconnect his top Yeah, gang! Ayy, brand new Glock .40

Girl I caught you in your little white lie Red handed, red handed You said you had to work tonight But here you are dancing In this honky talk with someone else And all you got to say for yourself