Billy Woods - The Big Nothing lyrics

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Billy Woods - The Big Nothing lyrics

[Verse 1: Billy Woods] Getting old The protagonist smokes at home alone, stoned Dingy housecoat rotary phone Hidden room where cheeba is grown Occasionally roams sees what's gone The chrome plate keys the elephant bone Took the chalice with a shrug When in Rome Sip the cup of destruction Pipe-head said "Let me hold something" Dance like marionette Numb to it all like I'm smoking wet Yellow newspaper said he hoping for the greatest Dusty books Chain on the door he know about that jux Go to church if you're shook, or get a pistol Dollars amounted to a fistful Telling you like how big homie told me Black girl lost She hold me Coin of the realm Paid the troll Rake the coals (?) Negroes run till they out of road Dig a hole Madder than Dame Dash, stocking full of coal The eyes is watching God topple the stripper pole Pa**ed down with the brothers on parole Would say something but what do I know? Sweet chariots swing low Scooping chunk full of 'dro Speakers blown Out of state plates, L's lit, d**h to fakes NY to D.C., barely tap the brakes White privilege co*ky smile like you know my style Todd Marinovich [Hook: Sample] Never had the chance You lose, you get nothing You get nothing Never had the chance You lose, you get nothing (not a damn thing) You get nothing (not a damn thing) [Verse 2: Billy Woods] Friend of a friend, you had a fun night Good job, and in addition he seemed nice Still, something not quite right Women's intuition The difference between finding yourself And coming up missing [Interlude: Sample] [Verse 3: Billy Woods] Granted manumission One black came back, knife glistening Heart like a piston Back scarred from whippings Let there be a lesson, listen: Whispered sedition, [?] intermission Gots to get got, my gat accept no petition Better yet, save your breath, ask God those questions Possession, nine-tenths of the law Gas station vacuum rental car Back in the back of the bar, demons spar [?] a cloud of smoke, Negroes in Paris Clock-strokes (trade peacoat?), await my carriage [Outro: Sample] Good day, Sir!