Joba - Ben Carson lyrics

[Verse 1: Ameer Vann] Dressed in the same sh** I wore yesterday Yeah, it's still fresh, never flexed clichés I never write a verse and repeat the same thing Cause the sheen on my chains is my calling to fame Made in the projects, slave to my progress I only f** a black girl if she wearing contacts You ain't gotta talk you still blocked from my contacts She hit me on my MySpace she ever wanna find me I'm way too fly to drive, too drunk to call a cab But I still need a ride to fit a couple girls inside Oh what am I to do? I rent an Uber for the week It's just another whip on my back, and we don't pay no tax Cause where I come from, ain't no body getting shot by the IRS The trap ain't free, you better realize that But imma get money, no tests on the desk f** the SAT's, smoking Sunday's best Find me in the ground, only time I regress Six feet down, no I'm not there yet Won't you meet me in the grave? I got gra** on deck So a grave like a slaveship, candy colored spaceship Space like a white girl but ride like a Lexus Leather with an accent, designed by Italians But he ain't got medallions so maybe he a Mexican But really what's the difference? [Verse 2: Merlyn Wood] I don't know difference, mirror black and white like a pilgrim Plymouth landed on me like a kickflip Y'all repress this, oppress this Question next is why my mention so menstrual? I be going ham on Ray street eating tofu Loiter at the wholefoods, sipping kombucha Yeah I went green but the black will still do ya Damn, she used to be my number one, past tense Past time chillin, evolved into the villian Sunday school friends In search of second circumcisions Nah, keep your opinions We was mallrats just cheesin' for the pictures Now who can circumvent us?