Keep It 100 Lyrics | Mick Jenkins

(Verse: Mick Jenkins)
And I been on that same shit that I been on in '09
Neva did the pig, and I do not fuck with bovine
Either man, check the style, I can spit a couple clothes lines
Hang 'em out to dry, give a fuck bout a cosign
Feature, I could teach ya about bars like the DEA
Talk green wit the PGA, spark a stogey, I'm so up to par!
So up to party, these niggas bogey, all that flashy shit is bogus
Nigga show me what ya produce like vegetarian grocery carts
From the heart, and it's mostly art
With a flow that break ankles, much worser than Kobeys are
What a holy art? And Jason Sellers should have went to Juilliard
I know too many talented minds to not prevail
Southside - just a plot detail
Rebel, and it's designer, hope we neva think it's cot, retail
(Free nation rebel, ya cannot resell)
Heat, so ova the wave, I just hope that ya can follow the flow
The flood's coming, can't just follow the boat
It's a art nigga, provide the light when it gets dark
Just let the vibes be the spark
Chillin', cheefin' in the park
Was five deep, did defend like it was shark week
Via Rosa brought the sage and the parsley
I'm hardly anything like anyone ya eva thought ya knew
Neva mind what ya thought ya do, we want the real

(Hook: scratches)
We want the real, real we want the real
We want the real, real we want the real
We want the real, real we want the real
We want the real, real we want the real

(Verse 2: YC the Cynic)
We could do this the easy way or the hard way
Before a train cross paths on a car chase
This is an act of God like the Bible on Broadway
This is black Yahweh in a cosplay
Instead of on a cross, dudes laying face down in a parkway
With his knees forced down till it's arch breaks
From an offbeat cop throwing off big rocks on his off day
At the depths, from a fire, assault case
I say it till my dyin day: fuck a cop if he crooked
Fuck a coward if he bustin!
And I'mma teach my niggas justice like it's John Jay
Ain't no honor for the meek, ain't no power in yo speech
Either say it with yo chest or get it concave
Contrary to belief, cops burying my peeps
Potbelly of the beast, this is sautéed
Only if they got a black or bronze face
We done been through hell and back like Dante
So ya can't blame a have not that know not
Papa was hunid, I'm a chip off the ol' block
Niggas on the street path always see a road block
Niggas with the filthy hands always on that soap box
Probably as a writeoff, push these niggas right off
It's something ya make light off, niggas Sammy Sosa
Aw, man, another murder and a slap on the wrist
Two weeks and he back on his shit, god damn!!