Exhibit A (Noir Boy Cover)

by Noir Boy

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A cover made by Noir Boy for the Jay Electronica song, Exhibit A.


Exhibit A, the plight of blighting all black men
You could cover your ears but your soul recognize the track spin
Tone is irrelevant, i wear my soul on my black skin
They wanna Bleach away my pride, whittle down my nose
But they can't turn me to a Jackson,
Pretend we don't own the cons as well as the pros
And the ladies don't love us, as much as the hos
Of every single color, when we stop being the melting pot
You got me brother, take a breather. Grab a cot.
You gotta take the cards you get we just get dealt a lot
I smoke to escape the earth, so I get high with Spock
And the doc, cuz even tv niggas know there's nothing wrong with Pot
They tryna control us, i unplugged their controllers
I should make a mix baby, that mulatto in a stroller
Piss em off, hear em sneer as the police roll on us
They fucking with me, I'm gonna ride that bus
They asked me to get off, not until they lick my nuts
This is where the lames stop, just like the bucks do,
all my niggas eating, the rest of you fucks food
Type to drop a song and these niggas be like duuude
I say bruh, you asked for heat and i got youuu

picture perfect portrait of a puzzled planetary peasant
so evil I'd drown the pope until his holy water no longer effervescent
learn ya lesson, less and less will heed your blessing
can you conceive a world without religious aggression?
it's like the middle east comprised entirely of lingual weapons
words these fuckers kill for send these niggas up to heavens?
in a perfect world, monsters would stay slain
I would break the back of these batshit bastards
snap a spine and rise out the smoke like bane
spill blood stomp breaks until brain splashed dashboard
to get up on my level, you would need at least a solar plane
last time I checked, bitch niggas don't gotta passport
I'm feeling super getting dome from this Lois Lane
I could then descend and pop you peasants like an ass wort
the only thing I'm tryna buy is bicoastal
so I can corner the whole market on going postal
I don't really give a fuck what coast you belong to
Cuz even if you talk your shit you fuckin heard my song too

You niggas can't escape me, I escalate your immolation
bars on fire, like I'm spitting from a gay prison
I ain't just come here to talk my shit I say listen
I use a deeper message as the seasoning in my kitchen


released February 27, 2015
Written by: Noir Boy (Michael Thomas)
Beat & Original Song by: Jay Electronica




Noir Boy New Jersey

23 year old rapper from South Jersey. I've never been one to gas myself up, so give the songs a listen. Feel free to contact me for events or features.

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