Colors Lyrics

I need not explain, what the fuck is my name,

Ya know who I am, from the bacon soda I came

Out the pots and jars I raise, out of states and corners I bang

From DR to Costa I'm made, H A R, Dwight, yeah I'm cane

Ho, I spell it for you suckers,

And the last time that I you motherfuckers,

At the same time, I let you motherfuckers know,

Especial when its come fast after Where the fuck it go

Gray, tan, or yellow, depending on the cutter,

It's a felon and its butter over eight O's

I'm thinking thirty six, in the early whip,

With a purty bitch, in whatever is the color

I need not explain, it's me Hard White,

I ain't talking bout the colors, colors, colors

You in the streets in a hair, all day, all night,

Pray for you my brothers, my brother's brother

Put the industry on blast, then it's piece for the mic,

Forever, I love ya, I love to love ya

When they put me in a bag, remember me all your life,

Don't think about the colors, colors, colors

That brown bag, that beige rock, that tan bag, that yellow pop,

That gray thing, that off white, no soft white, no na con na,

That blow up That hard dish, that cold cut, that bargain,

That jar flip, like no other, Hard White, no color

Are you ready to rock? I get that alot

As the engineer, chop chop, Break me down in zip locks,

Distribute as hip hop, promote it through disc jocks

Label me on flip flop, so as it flops, it flips as it drops

Yea bottom jar me, that's alright, bottles on me,

Gerber bottles mayonnaise bottles,

Who the chef, not Ye, Tommy,

Webster hall 40 40, Summer Jams, winter, fall, spring,

Round the world, stop the touring, H to the A, R, what they call me

I spell it for you suckers,

And the last time that I tell you motherfuckers

At the last time, I let you motherfuckers know

Especial when its come fast, after where the fuck it go

Gray, Tan, or Yellow, depending on the cutter

It's a felon and it's butter over 8 O's I'm

Thinking 36, In a early whip

With a purtty bitch, in whatever is the color

I need not explain, it's me Hard White,

I ain't talking bout the colors, colors, colors,

You in the streets, hand in hand, all day, all night,

I pray for you, my brothers, my brothers, brother

Put the industry on blast, then it's peace for the mic,

Forever, I love ya, I love to love ya

When they put me in a bag, remember me all your life,

Don't think about the colors Colors, colors

That brown bag, that beige rock, that tan bag, that yellow pop

That gray thing that off white no soft white, no na con na

That blow up, that hard dish, that cold cut, that bargain

That jar flip, like no other, Hard White no Color

You ain't about that life I'm bout that

Times that, times twice three felonies alright

Okay, Oh, yeah, You grindin', I'm there

You chefin', I'm there You choppin', I'm there

Prophet of my prayers, I keep you, all year

You locked in, get your time in, Come home, get it rockin'

And go H-A-R-D

W-H-I-T-E

Ho, I spell it for you suckers,

And the last time, I tell you motherfuckas

At the same time, I let you motherfuckas know

Especial when it comes fast like where the fuck it go

Gray, Tan, or Yellow, depending on the cutter

It's a felon and it's butter over 8 O's I'm

Thinking 36, In a early whip

With a purtty bitch, in whatever is the color