Released: August 6, 2019
Songwriter: A-F-R-O
Producer: Madlib
[Produced by Madlib]
Fresh, young, and black, FRO with the rhyme bout
Be the next one to bat, sho' get strike out
Shock when the flow dumb, the God rock wholesome
The ball park home run, the Ong Bak shogun
Niggas thinkin' that they Wesley Snipes, creepin'
You couldn't see me, couldn't test these pipes, sleepin'
Mano o' mano, throw hands daily
Grow old and wise, teach FRO grand babies
I'm on fire, the passion, I won't retire the rappin'
I gotta make it happen 'til I'm grown man aging
Highways tagged up by street ghetto artists
Crime rates rack up, the streets gotta harvest
Innocent folk get hit by stray shells
Snitches get smoked and shivved in caged cells
Rappers act up in feminine ways
I done squabbled in mad scruffs, got the fists in ya face
With the Spanish and black blood, and it drip in my veins
I done managed to stack funds, gotta live through the days
Fro Thizzle
Dusty notebooks with the lead and the pencil
Crusty old crooks, leave 'em dead in a stencil
Stole the show, A1 rhymer, make the roof blow
A loop-hole, aim gun fire, and you're too slow
The chosen one, teh, I done made up a new star
Now your boy known, lame dimes all chose moir
Set it straight, meditate, elevate when the high increase
Better to pay, bumpin' Etta James with the high beams
Thinkin' of a master plan, with Ill Street Blues
Speakin' with a faster span, my skills be smooth
Thick smoke, loud boom, hit the flo'
Spit dope, the crowd swoon, it's the FRO
Fresh, young, and black, FRO with the rhyme bout
Be the next one to bat, sho' get strike out
Shock when the flow dumb, the God rock wholesome
The ball park home run, the Ong Bak shogun
Niggas thinkin' that they Wesley Snipes, creepin'
You couldn't see me, couldn't test these pipes, sleepin'
Mano o' mano, throw hands daily
Grow old and wise, teach FRO grand babies
I'm on fire, the passion, I won't retire the rappin'
I gotta make it happen 'til I'm grown man aging
Highways tagged up by street ghetto artists
Crime rates rack up, the streets gotta harvest
Innocent folk get hit by stray shells
Snitches get smoked and shivved in caged cells
Rappers act up in feminine ways
I done squabbled in mad scruffs, got the fists in ya face
With the Spanish and black blood, and it drip in my veins
I done managed to stack funds, gotta live through the days
Fro Thizzle
Dusty notebooks with the lead and the pencil
Crusty old crooks, leave 'em dead in a stencil
Stole the show, A1 rhymer, make the roof blow
A loop-hole, aim gun fire, and you're too slow
The chosen one, teh, I done made up a new star
Now your boy known, lame dimes all chose moir
Set it straight, meditate, elevate when the high increase
Better to pay, bumpin' Etta James with the high beams
Thinkin' of a master plan, with Ill Street Blues
Speakin' with a faster span, my skills be smooth
Thick smoke, loud boom, hit the flo'
Spit dope, the crowd swoon, it's the FRO
- Definition of a Rap Flow
- #CODE 829
- Long Time Coming
- Dark Energy
- All Caps
- Sunshine and Flowers
- Swarm
- Activated Trap Locks
- Animal Kingdom
- Infantry
- Scared Stupid
- Razor Blade Rhymes
- S.O.S
- Mass Mic Murderer
- Nightmare on Fro Street
- Fro Armstrong
- Use These Blues
- Lair of the Black Worm
- Joe Jackson
- Keep It Movin
- Implosion
- Suicide Note
- Smooth Jazz
- Goodbye