Lyrics B.o.B – Good Nigger Sticker (Freestyle)

Made some plaques with an unthreatening a black image
But that’s finished, you niggas still ass kissing, catfishing
Before I was rap fishing, I had visions of mostly millions and packed buildings
Everybody’s depressed, no happiness
It’s sad when you find out the world is trash, inn’it?
(Wa-wait ’till they discover its flat)
If I ever made me a movie and casted it
You wouldn’t have to be at this function
A black family, a single and sad, a sell crack to act in it
The crooked enslave you, you singing prayers
Like Sky Daddy blessing black people with good behaviour like
«You’re a good nigga (yeah), you’re a good nigga (yeah), here’s a gold sticker»
And I swear it’s folks going through my house when they know I ain’t home
It be your own people, you don’t know what I’m on
Chopped it up with shawty slim like nigga pick up the phone
Stayed up ’till 5am just to finish this song
You ain’t gotta say «Let’s get it», bitch I got it
I ain’t gotta dumb it down, they just gotta catch up
I don’t need boy scout, bad bitch, I’m ain’t a tiger cub
Fuck you and your entire club
Fuck you, bitch, I’m fired up
I’m the whole entire plug
The way I drive fuck my tires up
Game over, nigga, time’s up
Me and my bitch, fuck your bitch, ayy
You ain’t know she was with the shit, ayy

Yeah, we some thots, no kids, ayy
Woah, I’m high as fuck, just a sip, ayy
Bobby Ray Bandz, I’m the shit, ayy
Fake niggas keep jumping ship
How good does good get?
There’s more to life than being hood rich
You ain’t on what I’m on
You ain’t on what I’m on
You ain’t on what I’m on
Chopped it up with shawty slim, nigga pick up the phone
Chopped it up with big rich, nigga pick up the phone
Chopped it up with TJ, nigga pick up the phone
Chopped it up with B-Side, lived the real street life
Chopped it up with Playboy Tre, pick up the phone
Chopped it up with London
Chopped it up with Havi
Chopped it up with Jacques
Chopped it with the money
Chopped it up with T.I.P
Chopped it up with Rocky
Chopped it up with Tech N9ne, nigga, who gon’ stop me?
Niggas know I’m mobbin’
Niggas know I’m not playin’
What’s her name, what’s her name? Could it be Roxxanne?
Niggas know I’m the bomb, woah, kemosabe
Racist white people look at me like Bin Laden
How many crisis actors I hear rapping today?
How many dick appointments can she make in a day?
Young guys think they’re coldest can be, but even triple OGs get old in the knees
Always knew niggas was gon’ wake up
Ain’t shit to worry ’bout if you ain’t trying to opress us
The whole hotep club
The whole no flex club
But if you had the money, buy a Rolex club (hotel parade)
Gotta be broke, to be woke, no check club (ho hey)
No sex, no neck (ho, hotel parade)
No neck, no sex, no sex (ho hey ho)
How much clout? How much clout? How much clout make that ass come out?
How much clout make them titties come out?
How much clout? How much clout?
How much clout make you fakers take a bow? Game over