I be the Bushwick Dutch Master rapper
I love black women and I hate fukkin' crackers, check me, yo
My breath stink 'cause I smoke skunk, punk
Everyday of the month, in a Dutch Master fukkin' blunt
Bust the cliché, nikkas talkin' he-say-she-say
About me, ya bytch-ass-nikkas
Y'all not ass, y'all titty, y'all style is shytty
How dare you try to represent New York fukkin' City?
I been down since BVDs and do-rags, shelltops and shag
I was the little badass with regular and tre bags
Always tryna get shyt I never had
'Cause times is bad like luck, that's why I don't give a fukk
I dig up my nose and my butt on the bus or the train
This is for nikkas walkin' in the rain, listenin' to they Walkmane
Talkin' the New York fukkin' slang
I stalk the place like a leopard, the microphone shepherd
Is speakin' parables one and two, catch it
....
I'm solar, steadfast, patient like Noah