B Justice - This Ain't That

She know pretty niggers that rap, yeah, but this ain’t that,
Yeah, but this ain’t that, yeah, but this ain’t that.
She know pretty niggers don’t do tracks, yeah, but this ain’t that,
Yeah, but this ain’t that, yeah, but this ain’t that.
Niggers finding about them racks, yeah, but this ain’t that,
Yeah, but this ain’t that, yeah, but this ain’t that.
Them other niggers pay for that ass, yeah, but this ain’t that,
Yeah, but this ain’t that, yeah, but this ain’t that.

It’s gone one step past great, quarter hand past eight,
That money right on time, but my recognition is late.
Past smiles are fake, our stars are great,
Stolen in this place from the real niggers that made.
Real monkey to my eye, God back in my way,
Couple crums in my cake, two thumbs in my ache,
Best you find your place, anywhere but my face,
My career is speeding but this car come with no brakes.
If I made conversation is so some compensation,
If you on me, I got homies and we’re a compilation.
I’m well debt in my zone, my boss switches on,
My pack must have been bitching pressing because they are well toned.
I’m back and bad with prone, I pack it out, lean on.
I’m shitting and I’m peeing on you, I hate your opinion.
Nobody sitting home telling me that I ain’t own.
Nobody on my body with my body done, she gone.

She know pretty niggers that rap, yeah, but this ain’t that,
Yeah, but this ain’t that, yeah, but this ain’t that.
She know pretty niggers don’t do tracks, yeah, but this ain’t that,
Yeah, but this ain’t that, yeah, but this ain’t that.
Niggers finding about them racks, yeah, but this ain’t that,
Yeah, but this ain’t that, yeah, but this ain’t that.
Them other niggers pay for that ass, yeah, but this ain’t that,
Yeah, but this ain’t that, yeah, but this ain’t that.

Two feet past my wind, twenty minutes to ten,
Whatever your network, just give me thirty minutes to spin.
Break your lesson up, first, mortals pay on their first,
Like building a second, second, born like on a third.
My spinning head’s still worse, it everywhere but her purse
Pussy don’t cost nothing but some cutie and some work
Juiced up, ex work, got them freckles, ex hurt,
My eyes greener than this alligator that’s sitting here on my shirt.
I overlook them most, but get over boost the show,
Not proud to be in your circle, you say racked on and taned on.
Real niggers work to my prose, real diamonds work to my loves,
They say my crew come to, ain’t reckon her words about yours.
Sorry, man, we’re closed, we’re not taking any more hoes,
You should come back tomorrow, we’ll have more room, for sure.
Most artists come and go, real artists never fall,
Like Vicky and Leprane, I’m here to take over this globe.

She know pretty niggers that rap, yeah, but this ain’t that,
Yeah, but this ain’t that, yeah, but this ain’t that.
She know pretty niggers don’t do tracks, yeah, but this ain’t that,
Yeah, but this ain’t that, yeah, but this ain’t that.
Niggers finding about them racks, yeah, but this ain’t that,
Yeah, but this ain’t that, yeah, but this ain’t that.
Them other niggers pay for that ass, yeah, but this ain’t that,
Yeah, but this ain’t that, yeah, but this ain’t that.