Artist: Professor Griff and The Last Asiatic Disciples Album: Pawns in the Game Song: Real African People "RAP" Pt I Typed by: cureforlife399@gmail.com [spoken word by Professor Griff over music] Rap, Real African People What's happenin' brother man Who me? Yeah, you The one with the two hundred and ten I.Q. Life is what you make it, wait a minute I'm just an unbehaved slave I'm taught by the man from the cave Yo, bro, oh, that's right, don't 'bro' you You have a bullshhh degree B-S-P-H-D M-D-B-A-U degree You have thirty three and a third degrees But you still don't have a proper knowledge of yourself Know your culture History, God rely on, I mean religion Know your past Well you better get passed that part of it So now you a new jack mental slave tryin' to behave You have 2 point 5 children No, you have 2 point 5 vanilla children You live in a white house with a white picket fence 2 point 5 cars I understand what you mean When you constantly chase the American dream With your grafted miseducation From the salt on the callus Yeah, I'm too Oxford Your ga-ling ga-ling, oh, pardon me What about your dog? I mean your mythical god That you sit on it, you for god for nothing book That you misunderstandin', if you understood It would still have to be explained to you To get a clear view of you Ding dong! Surprise, blue eyes, green eyes I'll take one pair, oh, my kinky hair? Give me some of your blond, blue-eyed Blue net, fish net, fresh, I mean non scent And while you're at it Give me something to extend my extensions Please, above government cheese, freeze For you bleed from the same knee As your apartheid brothers and sisters How real is your unreal is unreal A complex is complex is very complex I was the first syndrome I was the first one on my job I was the first one in my neighborhood Good What color is your god? Damn! Can't you understand, man, it's green Or do you like the other color, which is no color My god, white god Or how real is your Jesus handbag What a drag With your non-loving self Oreo hatred persuasion 'I wanna be a rap star' you say How much does it pay M-O-N-E bye bye Don't miss this diss There's a chap slap in progress Don't miss or I'll take you downtown clown My momma didn't name me that A nigga Cool Sha Hambone, stoned out of your mind No, that's not my name Johnson, Jones cold temper, O'Reilly, O'Toole, O'Fool O'Bryant, I got a client And he's sick as hell tryin' to sell me a leftover dream That he schemed up while gettin' crack On some ice twice, now he's gone Never to return among the living again You committed the ultimate sin You slept with Eve And the goddamn apple you did not receive Don't call me a nig-gargabe bag, bang on your chest Bulletproof vest Don't flex You're next to invest and the stock market fell Some went to hell Took a trip to Toky-oreo, token oreo Who do you think is trying to buy Nabisc-go straight to jail Don't pass the blow Do not collect your farewell check this out The U.S.A. or the U.S.A. The Union of South Africa or the United Snakes of America I like dat Now you got to understand this I'm just a juvenile with style and in the meanwhile unemployed Tryin' to avoid the cost of being Dumb, gifted and black Africa I'm just an African I'm just an African black Negro I'm just an African Negro black American No, no, no wait a minute I'm just an African Negro Nubian American black Negro Sometimes when I wanna be down with the truth!