Lyrics Danny Brown – Broadcaster
Text:
I done moved a lotta stones but I ain’t an Egyptian
I made work disappear but I ain’t a magician
I seen fiends lose weight offa crack nutrition
I get them checks on the first like a monthly subscription
They holla at me every day because they need their prescription
I’m like a male cheerleader: white girls are flippin’
Make Christians lose religions off the shit that I’m spittin’
I got families diminishin’ offa what I’m distributin’
Finishin’ the gimmicks with the shit I’m deliverin’
You’re about to go fast like Thanksgivin’ chit-er-lins
Don’t end up a memory, niggas just rememberin’
Death anniversary, pourin’ out some beer again
True Religion jeans with the laced up Timberlands
Bucket seats, bucket hat low like Gilligan
Hit your baby momma, left her panties on the ceilin’ fan
Sent her to voicemail, but she gonna call again
Brown done came up and he won’t fall again
Spittin for the hustlers cause the words are the empowerment
Smarter than those white boys in Ivy league colleges
But I used to move work to white boys in colleges
I’m like a male cheerleader: white girls are flippin’
Make Christians lose religions off the shit that I’m spittin’
I got families diminishin’ offa what I’m distributin’
Finishin’ the gimmicks with the shit I’m deliverin’
You’re about to go fast like Thanksgivin’ chit-er-lins
Don’t end up a memory, niggas just rememberin’
Death anniversary, pourin’ out some beer again
True Religion jeans with the laced up Timberlands
Bucket seats, bucket hat low like Gilligan
Hit your baby momma, left her panties on the ceilin’ fan
Sent her to voicemail, but she gonna call again
Brown done came up and he won’t fall again
Spittin for the hustlers cause the words are the empowerment
Smarter than those white boys in Ivy league colleges
But I used to move work to white boys in colleges
Most you rap niggas lyin’ like a horoscope
Homie you homo like the Rocky Picture Horror Show
Seats in the Chevy same color as a kiwi skin
Voice of the hood, you rap niggas is CNN
28 grams on my Grandma’s saucer
Heater on the waist, box cutter in the parka
Fiends at the door, Cold D up in lockup
Smokin’ on ganja, sippin’ java from Starbucks
Chillin’ with chicken, roll gan out dey purses
Browntown served more niggas than churches
Die for your rhymes, then you wouldn’t be worth shit
But to me it’s real because I live my verses
No water in the house, underarm must
Puttin’ water in the toilet just to make the fucker flush
I live too real for a movie
Smokin’ gan same color as a coochie
But to me it’s real because I live my verses
No water in the house, underarm must
Puttin’ water in the toilet just to make the fucker flush
I live too real for a movie
Smokin’ gan same color as a coochie
Detroit. Streets. City. Broadcaster. Nigga
Ha!
