More songs by Monaleo
Description
Here, the rhythm sounds like a march - bold, confident, with a smirk directed at those who are out of the loop. The words come pouring out, as if someone is clicking a rosary of truth right on the beat. There is passion, there is banter, and there is that feeling: “We are where we belong, and we have plenty of room here.”
The phrases are chopped up like bricks in a wall, but through them breaks through a game - sharp, brazen, with honeyed drops and a steel glint. This is not a confession or a manifesto, but rather the street itself telling its own story, without needing anyone else's signatures.
It is clear to hear: the roots here are deeper than fashion and trends, and the voice itself is like a mirror reflecting strength, humor, and steadfastness. The music rocks, and the words cut through the air, leaving an aftertaste of unshakable pride.
Lyrics and translation
Original
Ay, it's Leo, uh
Sexy Soulaan, Black American princess (uh-huh)
I'm prolly posted in the crib lightin' incense (yeah, yeah)
Lit bitch, I can get you touched in an instance (huh?)
If yeen black, stay the fuck out the bidness
Baow, all the non-Blacks to the back (ugh)
All the non-Blacks to the back (hol' on, damn)
All the non-Blacks to the back (huh, huh)
All the non-Blacks to the back, nigga
Blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice
You know they say the bigger the bush, the deeper the roots
I'm knowin' it's a bitch like me that's bein' produced, but you can't
Outdo the doer, I'm doin' the do, pussy
I ain't beefin' with bitches, they need to get in the booth
They steady singin' my name, I need to give 'em some tune
They throwin' salt on the playa 'cause they can't get in the room
Okay, I'm sweepin' these bitches, they wanna spit on the broom, huh
All the cute black girls streamin' my shit
Ego so big, niggas feedin' my shit (yeah, yeah)
I need my reparations, bitch, you gotta bring me my shit
These bitches my kids, I been dreamin' 'bout fish, huh
Black bitch, but the purse Murakami (Murakami)
These black-ass roots go beyond me (go beyond me)
You never 'posed to put your purse on the ground
But I'm slammin' this coin purse on the concrete
Baow, all the non-Blacks to the back (ugh)
All the non-Blacks to the back (hol' on, damn)
All the non-Blacks to the back (huh, huh)
All the non-Blacks to the back, nigga
Honey on my tongue, I'm talkin' slicker than hos
Ass fat, you know that I'm walkin' thicker than hos
Bitches talkin' in a circle, a bunch of rigmarole
I ain't shakin' white hands, I watch 'em dig in they hole, ugh
Red brick on my doorstep (huh)
Back ya ass up, nigga, I'ma need like four steps (uh-huh)
I got a hold on 'em, forcep (pussies)
If yeen black, then you can't say "nigga", I enforce that (huh)
You're not invited to the cook-out (uh)
But you can watch from the middle of the streets, be the look-out (pussy)
'Cause I remember we was pushed out (yeah)
So if you can't say the word, then ya ass gettin' put out (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Huh, big lips (uh-huh), thick hips (yeah)
Gold hoops (uh-huh), I'm trim, huh (yeah)
Big nose (huh), white tips (huh)
I'm gettin' paid in full, Rakim (ugh)
All the non-Blacks to the back (ugh)
All the non-Blacks to the back (hol' on, damn)
All the non-Blacks to the back (ay, huh)
All the non-Blacks to the back, nigga (pussy)