Lyrics
Yo man, R&B sucks!
I mean there’s a couple of people that can flow
But for the most part, the genre sucks
Just a bunch of people singin over rap beats
Get a old rap record? Sing over it!
Now everybody talk about their label, label this, label that, hey
Smokey Robinson wasn’t singin about Motown!
Listen, the Isley Brothers wasn’t goin, 'Teaneck in the motherfuckin house!'
The Jacksons wasn’t singin about Epic
Because nobody gave a fuck!
Hey, it’s time for a record! Here goes!
Ladies and gentlemen, I am the Bluff Daddy
And this is a Black Boy exclusive
Black Boy make you jump for joy, Black Boy make you jump for joy
Sing!
I, like champagne (feels good to my brain baby)
Black
I, like champagne
What you drinkin?
(drink it in the rain)
I, love champagne
Say it
(say it once again)
I, like champagne
Yo baby you got any money?
Nigga I’m broke, and feelin kinda thirsty (too blad)
Just smoked a blunt, and, I, feel, the worst way (Black Boy)
My baby’s father, brought me a case of St. Ide’s (did you like it?)
I said, 'I don’t drink that shit nigga, you better recognize!' (Cristal)
Would you let the lady finish the song!!! (big hats)
Now I’m a broke ho with expensive tastes (you my ho)
I got six ankle chains around my waist (who bought them for you baby)
Gotta get my sip on (get your sip on) cause that’s my missi-on (you gotta get)
Gotta get my champagne on, or I’m gonna get my bitch on (that's right)
I, like champagne (feels good to my brain baby)
I, like champagne
Cristal!
(drink it in the rai-ai-in)
I, love champagne
Say it again
(say it once again)
I, like champagne (once again)
Ladies and gentlemen, Freedom Williams
Enter the Dom/e of Perignon, I never been crept upon
I’m on the mike and my word is bond (hoo hoo!)
I’m the top the pinnacle, the echelon
I’m never fallin (c'mon) and beat MC’s with a baton
The conniseur, I’m gonna do her over dinner
(Black Boy make you jump for joy, Black Boy make you jump for joy)
I said fine cigars, fresh fish, Alize toast
(Black Boy make you jump for joy, Black Boy make you jump for joy)
My lifestyle’s ghost, when you see true enlightened men
To MC’s I incite and mend
What? Motherfucker what the fuck?
Fuck who the hell are you? «I'm the kiiiiiing»
I’m only gonna ask one last time
Who the fuck are you? «I'm the kiiiiiing»
Stop hitting me! Stop!
Who da bumba claat?
«Ohhh shit»
For someone who is a Shaolin Monk
Your Kung-Fu's really lousy!
Boy, I’m three generations deep, in gangsterdom
Three generations!