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Current Song
Mr. N***a (feat. Q-Tip)
Mos Def
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Say ho, everybody say ho By the way yo I said take it slow like way back in the day-yo By the way yo, everybody say ho Everybody say hooooo- hooo Everybody say ho And check it out now Who is the cat dining out on the town And make the whole dining room turn they head round Mr. Nigga, Nigga Nigga He got the speakers in the trunk with the bass on crunk Who be riding up in the high rise elevator Other tenants who be prayin that he 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 cause his pockets stay swoll' Could afford to get up and be anywhere he go V.I.P. 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 Os, o-o-o-o-ohs Straight all across the globe, watch got three time-zones Keep the digital phone up to his dome Two assistants, two bank accounts, two homes One problem; even with the Os 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 living large, your skin is dark, they flash a light in your face Now, who is cat dining out on the town Maitre'd 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 gotta mumble the chorus beneath they breath (I didn't say it!) But they'll say it out loud again When they get with they 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 it's never said and lips stay sealed They actions reveal how their hearts really feel Like, late night I'm on a first class flight The only brother in sight, the flight attendant catch fright I sit down in my seat, 2C She approach officially, talking about, "Excuse me" Her lips curl up into a tight space Cause 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 (So sorry) An hour later here she come by, walkin' past "I hate to be a pest but my son would love your autograph" Wow.. (I saw you roll your eyes, Mr. Nigga I love your albums!..) They stay on nigga patrol on American roads And when you travel abroad they got world nigga law Some folks get on a plane, go where they please But I go overseas and I get over-seized London, Heathrow, me and my people They think that illegal's a synonym for negro Far away places, customs agents flagrant They think that dark face is smuggled away in they cases Bags inspected, now we arrested Attention directed to contents of our intestines Urinalysis followed by X-rays Interrogated and detained 'til damn near the next day No evidence, no apology, 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 (Ha ha) State trooper wanna stop him 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 (What, what say word) They gotta send it to the lab 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-Yi 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? O.J. found innocent by jury of his peers And they been ****ing with that nigga for the last five years Is it fair, is it equal, is it just, is it right? Do you do the same shit when the defendant face is white? If white boys doing it, well, it's success When I start doing it, 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 livin off of slave traders' paper But I'm a live though, yo I'm a live though I'm puttin 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 abide 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 suprisin'
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