Lletres:
Black 15

Traducció: Negre Label Society. Sense títol N º 15.

's a start They could push their reps quicker, kill a well known nigga And if you say you're going to kill me, should I blast you first? Being black

Bank jobs and jewels, quick to flex with tools Pimpin' hoes on the block Checkin' cash non stop Crack spots, armor with interior bars No lie, I used to own 'bout 15

Vietnam shit Flat-lining all you cats up in a long wiz Out-of-towners, proper heavenly father, you know the song, bitch Thug war, jet-black cats kick

cool I tell 'em look out fool, I ain't Al Sharpton My name Brad Jordan, I don't beg pardons Don't get me wrong I got respect for black ladies But black

could tell you that my Christmas was jinxed 'Cuz grandma Loucelle died on twelve nineteen I can't help but wonder, what kind of black cloud I was under 'Cuz 15

for you? (I don't know you tell me..) Youse a grown man, why fuck that young girl, are you lustin? (I might look twenty but I'm 15 - slow down girl)

I smoke, my career on the ropes So I, reappear and then I clear my throat Nigga (all I do is for you) Yo, since a DJ at 15, I was a young gun Music disciplined

weed, anything you need I'mma take, I'mma take, I'mma take this one for the team one fat ass, one flat ass n-gga hit the switcheroo on my black ass ever