NIPSEY HUSSLE - Black Faces lyrics

rate me

[Nipsey Hussle:]

Turn that beat up for me

Really everything, like the headphones

Yeah, yeah, a little bit louder

No punch, you know that mean that we workin’ hard

Look, young rich nigga shit, pops was an immigrant

Lifestyle illegit, but know I own businesses

Started out the trunk, ended up at the dealership

All gold Rollie, black face no blemishes

Legend in my city cause I grind so vigorous

If I show my face west of Texas, that’s a big event

Gotta pay me twenty cents just to hear me vent

I’m really out here on some shit, you should take a flick

Ballin’ on my own ten toes, so the difference is

I call shots never ask for permission, man

I got a lot of big plans in my vision and

I ain’t failed yet, ’bout a dollar hell yes

I’m a problem, failed test, it’s only getting worse

I swear I’m getting money, I just hope you gettin’ yours

I’m killin’ niggas solo so you know I’m gettin’ more

Now that young Gambino on the chorus, go

[Hook: Childish Gambino]

This is for that real shit, this is for that East side

This is for my bad girls, this is for them good guys

This is for my grandma, this is for that West side

This is for them niggas talkin’ shit on a website

Damn I feel good, you ain’t feelin’ nothin’

This is for my niggas who be livin’ dime a dozen

Bino got that good shit, Nipsey got them aces

On some young rich shit, Kennedys with black faces

Yeah, black faces

My rolly so racist, all black faces

Obama on that million dollar bill, black faces

Yeah, nigga, black faces

Look, yo I got this

Yo, turn, turn it up a little

Ay, here we go, okay

League of my own, swag Geena Davis

Only rapper make 100k on your playlist

Niggas talk on twitter, but in life they don’t say shit

My Rollie so racist, all black faces

We the new, face it, kill ‘em like Jason

Grind in my sleep man a nigga need braces

Wonder what you feelin’ like, used to be the nervous type

They ain’t mention Bino Man that shit must be a purpose, right?

Hostile, nigga my style

Kind of flow to paint a picture, Norman Rockwell

I don’t eat pasta, everything is low-carb

I don’t fly coach now, say I fly Goyard

Leave a face covered in that coast guard

Metaphor Mozart, all we do is tell ‘em the truth

M Fox to my people on some family ties

Magazines got black faces when somebody dies

I mean look at Donna Summers, she was tryin’ to survive

People wrestle over petty cash

When we should be really cryin’ over that one percent

Like we tipped a milk glass

Fuck y’all, I’mma let my grandkids ball

Look to the future, these dudes so last week

See me stuntin’ so Conde Nasty

Me and Nipsey on some grown shit, no rent

Own shit, so Jim Crow shit, black faces

Ay, nigga, black faces

Black faces

That’s royalty, nigga