RUMORS
Lyrics
My job was to connect Black America to Africa
And if God is with me, you would be well to leave me alone
Streets is talking
Mostly out they neck, think Stephen Hawking
This ain't a HBO show, don't believe the Gossip
Girls want me for the mugshot, feds want me on a drug stop
Passport tripping like Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock
I'm an African intellectual, go peep my Ted Talk
You start connecting the dots, they gon' hit you with that red dot
Look at Nkrumah, look at Malcolm, look at Martin
When you unifying shooters, then yo' ass become a target
It's funny, twelve come for me, it's everywhere
But I get Moosa eleven years off a prison sentence, they never cared
I pop a wheelie, they want me Meek Mill'd
I been sober for a year, I'm doing millies off a weed deal
Writer(s): Victor Kwesi Mensah, Peter CottonTale, Edward Davis, Aesha Dominguez, Stephen Feigenbaum, Dustin James Corbett, Dominic Marino, Bongo ByTheWay
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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