• Tag Archives Colin Kaepernick
  • Jason Whitlock bashes LeBron James, Colin Kaepernick, and Serena Williams for embracing “an anti-American sentiment”

    Jason Whitlock was on ‘The Truth with Lisa Boothe.’ He threw jibes on Colin Kaepernick, Lebron James, and Serena Williams for embracing what […]

    The post Jason Whitlock bashes LeBron James, Colin Kaepernick, and Serena Williams for embracing “an anti-American sentiment” appeared first on Terez Owens.

  • DJ Khaled – Thank You Lyrics

    Play this song

    [Intro: Big Sean & DJ Khaled]
    I gotta give thanks, you know?
    I never really met nobody who was truly successful that wasn’t thankful (Straight up, woah)
    For the good and the bad (Go time)
    It made me who I am
    Straight up, look
    DJ Khaled

    [Verse: Big Sean]
    When it get this dark, you gotta feel your way out
    They tried to bury me alive, I Kill Bill-ed my way out
    Letting go of grudges that I used to feel a way about
    ‘Cause some emotions are too taxing to keep paying out
    Life is what you make it, I know I’ll make it for sure, then make it some more
    I know critics hate it galore, it doesn’t phase me no more
    I know some peoples only taste of success is the bite that they take out of yours
    My GG told me God laugh at you when you make plans
    The type of wisdom that made us men
    Plus tryna thank everybody who helped us along the way
    Is like trying to name every single member of the Wu-Tang Clan
    Yeah, I might skip one or two
    But that doesn’t mean they wasn’t just as part of the plan
    Some love goes without saying
    Who would’ve thought that DJ that was on 6 to 10
    Right there on 99 Jamz, screamin’, “We the best”
    Would’ve had all the execs eatin’ right out of his hands?
    Showed us all the keys to success from doors being slammed
    Look, I gotta thank Khaled, who back in 2010
    Convinced Ye, Sean should drop my last shit
    It’s a smash hit, add Chris to it and it’s a classic
    That’s that rare shit, yeah loyalty everlasting, look
    All I know, forever stuck to the code
    Only one I changed was 48221 to 90210
    Fast forward later, this nigga Khaled my neighbor
    The type of stories that you can’t make up
    The universe doesn’t just work it out, man, it works in our favor
    What’s Heaven on earth, getting everything that you prayed for?
    Shit, believe it to achieve it or you never will
    On the phone with Colin Kaepernick
    He like, “They not gon’ make it easy for us in this game and they never will”
    I’m like, “That’s not just the NFL, bro, that’s every field”
    Look, no restraints, bitch, only strength
    That’s my wavelength, surprised I ain’t go insane
    Heard more gunshots outside than the doorbell rang
    And swam with sharks that’s too big to fill up tanks
    And I’m right here, right now, how could I not give thanks?
    Feel my pain, I paint these pics, I spill this paint
    I miss my dogs, I spill this drink
    I pray that all your growing pains turn gold champagne
    Plus I gotta thank my exes on some “thank u, next” shit
    And all the old times that gave me new perspectives
    Speaking of new, I’m about to ink a new deal, Don Life Records
    And put anyone on in the city who needs connections
    This that Fortune 500, my shit never plummet
    I just bought a mansion and moved in the dungeon, don’t none of y’all want it
    So all y’all fuckboys that want us to fuck up
    Just know I make fire in the place and not one of ’em fumble
    My vision is tunnel, Sean Don

    [Outro: Big Sean]
    And I just gotta give thanks
    ‘Cause it’s that time
    You know what I’m talking about, that grind time
    You’ve been grinding your whole life
    It’s that time where that preparation meets that opportunity
    And you gotta be ready
    And give thanks

  • Mary J. Blige – American Skin (41 Shots)

    [Verse 1: Mary J. Blige]
    41 shots
    And we’ll take that ride
    Across the bloody river
    To the other side
    41 shots
    Cut through the night
    You’re kneeling over his body in the vestibule
    Praying for his life

    [Pre-Chorus: Mary J. Blige]
    Is it a gun? Is it a knife?
    Is it a wallet? This is your life
    It ain’t no secret
    It ain’t no secret
    No secret, my friend, you can get killed just for living in
    Your American skin
    [Ad-Libs: Mary J. Blige & Kendrick Lamar]
    Oh yeah

    [Verse 2: Kendrick Lamar]
    If I die right before I wake
    Cross my heart, then I seal my fate
    Life in the dark of the heartless
    Looking at the remedy for all this
    Everyday they look at you a target
    Falling victim, them and
    Him and her then this one, insensitivity
    Talk bad religion, skin identity
    Lack rash decision made by yours
    Pack facility with the urban boy
    Gun admitted he bear arm
    The entity, arm and leg and head made to destroy
    80% of the victim was yours
    Maybe I get to relive years of war
    Look on the corner, we been here before
    Look at the momma, you seen tears before?
    Pain bright and early
    Rain, sleet, hail, snow, worry
    More storm barricade the city
    Prosecution, unhung jury
    These days murder keep ’em busy
    Sweet blood flowed on the gurney
    Yellow tape tied around the street
    Colin Kaepernick was more than worthy
    I could reverse the day, reverse the time
    Reverse the block, reverse the gun, reverse the shot
    Reverse the law, reverse the flaw
    That made us all the versions of a danger flock
    Reverse the love, reverse the hate
    Reverse the hope, reverse the way we playing sin
    Reverse the moment, so we can live again
    Life and times of the American skin

    [Chorus: Kendrick Lamar]
    41 shots
    41 shots
    41 shots
    41 shots
    American skin

    [Verse 3: Mary J. Blige]
    41 shots
    Lena gets her son ready for school
    She says, “Now, on these streets, Charles
    You got to understand the rules (41 shots)
    If an officer stops you (41 shots)
    Always be polite (41 shots)
    And never ever run away
    Promise momma you’ll keep your hands in sight”

    [Pre-Chorus: Mary J. Blige (Kendrick Lamar)]
    Is it a gun? (What is it?) Is it a knife? (What is it?)
    Is it a wallet? (What is it?) This is your life
    It ain’t no secret (It ain’t no secret)
    Sure ain’t no secret (It ain’t no secret)
    No secret, my friend, you can get killed just for living in
    You can get killed just for living in
    You can get killed just for living in
    Your American skin

    [Outro: Kendrick Lamar & Mary J. Blige]
    41 shots
    You can get killed just for living in
    41 shots
    Your American skin
    41 shots
    Be careful out there, oh baby
    41 shots
    Listen to momma [?]
    41 shots
    Don’t wanna take the ride
    41 shots
    Don’t wanna, don’t wanna, don’t wanna, don’t wanna take the ride
    41 shots
    Don’t wanna take the ride
    41 shots
    [?] shots

  • Eminem – Campaign Speech letras

    Jumped out of the 2nd floor of a record store
    With a Treacherous Four cassette and a cassette recorder
    In Ecuador with Edward Norton
    Witness the metamorphosis
    Of a legend growin’ like an expert swordsman
    From the Hessian war and
    Hence the origin of the Headless Horseman
    Born with the endorphins of a pathetic orphan
    Endless source and reservoir
    Of extension cords in dresser drawers
    And deadbolts on the bedroom doors
    And sexual torture kits kept in a separate storage bin
    Excellent boyfriend

    Use intercourse to settle scores
    With women who have been vendettas towards men
    Dickhead is forced in ’til there’s shredded foreskin
    Reddish torn and they’re only bein’ fed a portion
    Bed sores and sore shins
    Pregnant whores can get abortions
    Fetish for stickin’ metal forks in, self-absorption
    Skeletor, I went to Hell and fell a floor
    A predator, I’m headed for competitors
    Better warn ’em, what I lack in tact and a set of morals
    I make up for in metaphors like a cosmetic store
    Stegosaurus, Chuck Norris with a thesaurus
    Yes, of course, a mess of warrants
    You want some? Come and get some, boys!
    I’m givin’ Daniel Pantaleo a refresher course
    On excessive force and pressure points
    And dressin’ George Zimmerman in a fluorescent orange
    Dress and four inch heels to address the court
    With a bullseye on his back, his whole chest and torso
    Or left on the doorsteps of Trayvon’s dad as a present for him
    In my present form I’m Desert Storm
    Appetite for destruction there’s no suppressant for
    Aggressive, forceful, and less remorseful in every morsel
    Unpleasant, horrible; hello, gorgeous!
    The rebel with devil horns just fell off the yellow short bus
    Met a contortionist, said, “When you wanna get sexual?”
    She said, “However I fit in your schedule. I’m flexible.”
    Expired tags on the Saturn, got Catherine Bach
    In the back in Daisy Dukes with the hazards on
    At a traffic stop gettin’ harassed, sign an autograph
    For this asshole cop’s daughter
    Laugh ’cause I called her a brat on it
    He spat on it and brought it back lookin’ half in shock
    Had a heart attack and dropped dead
    Started fallin’ back with it
    And got slapped with a Colin Kaepernick practice sock

    One ball and half a dick, Apple Watch
    Crack front axle, walked in a Bass Pro Shop with David Hasselhoff, pulled Tabasco sauce out of my satchel
    Knocked over a fisherman’s tackle box and *crash sound*
    Asked if they had a laughin’ stock
    That was fuckin’ stupid…

    You got it twisted, all ’cause I offered this bitch
    A doggie biscuit, you call me misogynistic
    Bitch, get to massagin’ this dick!
    Like spas in this bitch, slob on it with gobs of lipstick
    Got a shoppin’ list for you to run some odds and ends with
    It’s not a bitch on this earth I can be monogamous with
    She’s non-existent
    Robin Thicke with a throbbin’ dick on some suave and slick shit
    But I shout derogatives at bitches like fuckin’ missile launches
    Misfit, blond and nitwit
    Like I’ve gone ballistic, with a frostin’ tip kit
    Screamed, “I hate blondes,” and became one, I’m optimistic
    Love to start shit
    Shovin’ Clark Kent’s undergarments in the glove compartment
    Of the bucket, bumpin’ Bubba Sparxxx
    I’m double parkin’ up at Targets, trouble ’causer, a double crosser
    Shadiest mothafucka you’ll ever come across
    Olympic gymnast, been known for some assaults
    A couple lawsuits, enough to cause a stomach ulcer
    Same damn brain scan results as Rainman’s is
    Something’s off, but when Dustin Hoffman’s
    Dressin’ up in your mummy costume
    On stage dancin’ to “Brain Damage,” what’s the problem?
    Nothing’s wrong, the name brand is back to reclaim status
    Run the faucet, I’ma dunk
    A bunch of Trump supporters underwater
    Snuck up on ’em in Ray Bans in a gray van with a spray tan
    It’s a wrap, like an Ace bandage
    Don’t-give-a-fuck persona, to my last DNA strand
    E&J in the waistband, at the VMAs with the stagehand
    She wants kielbasa, pre-arrange an escape plan
    Three-inch blade on point, like a See-and-Say
    Consider me a dangerous man
    But you should be afraid of this dang candidate
    You say Trump don’t kiss ass like a puppet
    ‘Cause he runs his campaign with his own cash for the fundin’
    And that’s what you wanted
    A fuckin’ loose cannon who’s blunt with his hand on the button
    Who doesn’t have to answer to no one—great idea!

    If I was president
    Gettin’ off is the first order of business
    Once I get in office
    Second thing that’ll make me happy’s walkin’ up to Uncle Sam
    Naked, laughin’, dick cupped in hand
    Screamin’, “Fuck safe sex!”
    Throw a latex and an AIDS test at him
    Tell Congress I run this land
    And I want the rubber banned, and make it snappy
    Addiction to friction and static
    Addict who can’t escape the habit
    Continue to chase the dragon
    But as fate would have it, I walked up in major Magics
    Dressed as the maintenance man
    In a laser tag vest and a racin’ jacket
    With a gauge to blast it
    And sped away in the station wagon
    Stacey Dash’s and Casey Anthony’s
    Crazy asses in the backseat
    Throwin’ Stayfree pads at me
    Dead passenger in the passenger seat
    Unfasten the safety latches
    And slam on the brakes in traffic so hard
    I snapped the relocation brackets for the monster tires
    ‘Finna get a murder case and catch it
    Like you threw it at me encased in plastic

    And send Dylan Roof through the windshield of the Benz
    Until he spins like a pinwheel and begins feelin’…
    Like a windmiller with a thin build while his skin’s peelin’
    And skids ’til he hits a cement pillar
    Swing for the fence like Prince Fielder
    Knock it into the upper peninsula
    You wanna go against ‘zilla? The Rap God
    When will I quit? Never been realer
    The in-stiller of fear, not even a scintilla of doubt
    Whose pens iller than Prince in a chinchilla
    Or Ben Stiller in a suspense thriller
    Revenge killer, avenge syllable binge
    Fill a syringe, ’til I
    Draw first blood
    Even pop shit on my pop shit, and it’s popular
    Couldn’t be more awkwarder
    Cause you’re innocence I robbed you of
    It’s my fingers that got stuck up
    Taught ya ta, not give a
    Slapstick, hockey puck
    The broad hunter with the sawed off
    Like an arm when it’s lopped off of ya
    But I’m not gonna, get the shotgun
    Or the Glock, I’m gonna opt for the ox
    Cause I’m into objects that are sharp when I shop
    And it’s not a shock, I’m such an obnoxious fucker
    The Rock Hudson of rock ’cause who would have thought
    This much of a cocksucker to go across the buttocks of Vivica Fox with a box cutter
    That was for 50, little slap on the wrist be warned
    I’m unrevealin’ quickly
    My squabbles, I’m grappling with your time traveling with me
    Try and follow, as I wobble, relapse into history, with a flask of the whiskey
    Tip it back then I’m twisting wine bottles
    Like what happened to Chris Reeves’ spine column
    That’s the plan of attack when I’m fixing my problems
    Wish my chest wasn’t having to get these rhymes off ’em
    But the fact that I have so many rappers against me mind boggles
    And why I haven’t come back on these faggots who diss me is
    More of a spectacular mystery than a fucking Agatha Christie crime novel

    But my patience is wearing thin
    Swear I been contemplatin’ rubbing shit in your face ’til I smear it in
    Diss you in every lyric until you fear the pen
    And never appear again
    If you actually had fuckin’ careers to end
    But then I think of Molly Qerim and I steer ’em in that direction and forget my ideas for them
    Molly, I’m gone off you
    Man, light some kush
    You’re my first take, I’ll nail you
    Can’t lie, I gush
    If I won you over, you would be the grand prize
    I’m entranced by your looks, come and give the Shady franchise a push
    You can get it in the can like some Anheuser Busch
    Jeans too small, least three pant sizes tush
    Mushed against your damn side, your puss
    And thighs are squished
    What kind of attires that?
    I’m ready to be rode
    Psychopath, bet you we’ll get it poppin’ like a flat
    Light the match to ignite the wrath
    Got knives to slash and slice hermaphrodites in half
    Piper Chapmans might just have to picket me
    Like a scab
    Hard to describe in fact
    Startling violent perhaps
    Are things that come to mind as soon as I start spitting rhymes like that
    And you aren’t really surprised at that
    But as far as these lines I rap
    And these bars, wouldn’t dial it back if I star 69ed the track

    Why am I such a dick?