Ab-Soul, Common - Made in Black America lyrics

Uh, yeah made in Black America
Metaphor for a predator
Been to the Mediterranean
On my papers like a editor
I flow like a reservoir, dog
Rap Tarantino, off the chain like Django
Still let the chain glow
Where they bang though
And niggas get shot like camera angles
In rap videos put up on Vimeo
I'm where the buck 50
Bicentennial perennial all-star
Fruit that don't fall far from Islam
When rap is dead, I had the fluid
That embalm i speak
You know I'm in the
Building like an intercom
Enter Com, the world's most
Intricate, integrated with imminent
Domain, I'm feeling myself like a sentimen-
Tal letter written to myself
Aspirin' for greatness, wellness and
Wealth, I'm cold, i'm hard to melt

Uhh, I'm more than a hot song
Or a hot album
Ask my ex, I still live on like Malcolm
My spirit and style done a transformation
Make room, nigga I don't need reservations
You sweet as a hotel, I stay presidential
Strange to be sinful and know
That Heaven sent you
To rearrange the mental
I've seen things we've been through
It's hard for a man to claim gentile
Let me change the tempo
I be with broads that got they shit together
Even if it ain't meant forever
Still smoke the spliff together
The essence of the herbs
The presence of the words
Yeah you got a chest but
I'm treasurin' your curves
You walk past, I'ma look behind you
Look you up and down to find you
Can see I was designed to
Give you power and refine you
You fucking with me we can grind to
Gather the better Black America

Yeah, made in Black America
Takin' threats from a terrorist
We will never meet but
The media feed hysteria
And I be inferior, if I be in fear of ya
More godly than gluttonous but
My supper's superior
You know the difference 'tween the
Kids with the lunch tickets
And the ones with the money, in the cafeteria
I break bread with with my
Brethren like a pizzeria
Spinnin' dough, you'll find red
Dots over cheese, be a-
Ware of your whereabouts, don't be feeble
I'm pissed off, tinkle is the onomatopoeia
You's just a little star
(twinkle) sure ain't me
Been a superstar since ma made me
My president is black (uhh)
I wonder if Pac thought we was ready for
That or did we move too fast?
I don't give a fuck, shit, my grandpa glad
They pass that gun law or not
Niggas still gon' pop up dead

Yeah, I'm the Morpheus in
This hip-hop matrix, exposin' fake shit
Used to borrow dollars
Now my sense ain't so common
Went across the whole
Nation screamin' Hiiipower (HiiiPower)
Never been a racist, but I love horsepower
I'm hot
That's why I got the fans in the stands
Em fans googlin', enemies shakin' hands
Restorin' the balance, detourin' the malice
We kill you motherfuckin' mice with a mallet
(uhh) this is Huey P Newton with a QP
Bobby with a Seale, Fred Hampton on pills
In the Hamptons, now that's ill
What's happenin'?
I'm just trying to teach my
Homies 'bout the Emerald tablets
Stop the war in Syria over a bowl of cereal
Kill a instrumental then book
A flight on Expedia
To the nation's capital, Golf Wang radical
Black Lip Pastor, tip the usher
When he pass ya, nigga
Welcome to Black America, Soul!