Viracocha Mendoza, Jordan Pain, Radicule. - Rock + Roll lyrics

A message to the Oreo cookie:
No matter how much you want to switch
Here’s what they think about you

"You gold teeth, gold chain wearing
Fried chicken
And biscuit eating monkey, ape, baboon, big
Thigh, fast running, high
Jumping, spear chucking
Three hundred-and-sixty-degree basketball
Dunking, tit'sun, spade
Moulan Yan go the fuck back
To Africa go the fuck
Back to Africa go the fuck back to Africa"

All falls down

Cultural Deities

Dirt of the ground: human being
Fear God, sex, and we eat
Free will perplex even me
Secular poetry tangle up my feet
Pleasure and release, erected to beat
One little death when I bred little me
Cultivate, procreate, grow little seed
Slowly cut your teeth
Sunlight and all, love and God I bequeath
Non discreet the math was too gorgeous
Sloppy and anointed
Man and his partner dos-à dos at arms length
Bunking with my thoughts
Phallus feel my heartbeat
Fallacy of darkness
I still saw the stars then
Growing more alarmed because I
Noticed that my pace
Has me moving faster than I wanted by the day
I’m pushing on alone and there's
No one in my face
I'm so far behind could have
Sworn I was first place
What the fuck I look like tryna rep a set?
Banging on my chest, screaming Cuh Rip
My melanin popping so I know
That if im pressed
I'm guaranteed to have a Nike
Check all on my neck, cop a vest
I'm just trying to feed
My daughter better meals
But age comes with taste
You afraid? bad deal
We're angus and we’re forced to share
These cages with the veal
Code switch to pig Latin
A hog says to squeal
Niggas carry two cents, joie de vivre
Nonsense
Going postal like it's a noble offense
Niggas bitch and moan like they’re
Thinking in a broad sense
They sing in a broad sense, get
Paid and they’re off shit, the art's bents
Im not trying to break my
Bread in the convent
Outfit red wine soaked and I'm starving
Checking out my race before
I rent the apartment
Talib when I’m here but I'm still a novice
Northeast foggy, two flats in the
Province Flatten out 63, pave over projects
Busted every house down where
My grandma lived
Black part of town turned to
A parking lot quick
Niggas really dead to y'all
Before they are departed
Money really lives right in
You niggas hearts, man
This where is falls apart at, all bad
And I can't even get a call back
Unless I got a bag waiting in
The process and all that
If we fall back then somebody gonna draw back
I'm sick of niggas calling
I'm sick of niggas stalling
And matter-of-fact, I'm sick of talking, Cuz

My grandmama was raised on a reservation
My great grandmama was sold on plantation
They sang songs for inspiration
Songs for relaxation
Songs to take their minds up
Off that fucked up situation
I am, yes, I am the descendant
Of those folks, who, backs for broke
Who fell down inside the gun smoke
Chains on their ankles and feet
I am descendant of the
Builders of your street
Tenders to your cotton money i am Hip-Hop
I am rock n’ roll

Wait! This is very hard, doing these things
We’re going to rock n’ roll
Ahh! We need it faster yes! This is too slow

You have to go faster!

Okay

The guitar doesn’t go faster you go faster!