kickin` it on the curb .
who remembers lil dynasty, the one who got six stitches in her left ear
the one who of the dark && clowns didn’t really have fear
learned how to write at six, reading since she was three
everything she saw was different you see
she don’t think like a fourteen year old
she don’t call home for a minor cold
don’t give a damm about Chris Brown or Soulja Boy
might know the dances but she ain’t playin toy
ain’t playin games, some say she gotta relax
settle down and maybe worry about a zit attack
rather than a communist country blown up her city
cause it seems less important than who’s beefin with fifty
but those people in her class don’t know they might clone food
its less worry some than tracks that were badly glued
a million times my momma told me
how people think i sound like i’m twenty-three
due to an expanded vocabulary and knowledge of the world
daddy used to be a sailor && i always was his baby girl
told me all the places he’s been && what its like
said he’d bring me to Australia, then he said sike
not to mention i got both my grandmothers
kickin it old-old school to the others
so imagery and story tellin is actually quite normal
speech deep, got yall lookin under the table
wonderin how far down my words go
got the audience on froze when i speak at a show
Diamond got diamonds in her ears
and puttin up dr. pepper cans up in cheers
cause despite how far ahead i am in mind
i can sip no goose without doin time
and no i am not fine, sexy or “hot”
i just happen to have good genes and what not
jeans huggin evey curve, amplifyin every switch
like i got the beat bumpin off my hips
base droppin, hips tossin, waist rollin
but i still got some pride, controllin
for i spin outta control && have a loss for word
things you’d learn when ya kick it with me on the curb.
