White Man's Got a God Complex

So... up down
 On the corner, up town
 I turn around and hear the sound
 A voice is talking about
 Who's gonna die next
 Cause the white man's got a god complex
 Silent niggas scream for help
 Aaah!! Help me! Help me!
 Nigga, make your own help
 Shit, you need it
 I turn around and hear the sound
 Of jukeboxes playing in bars
 Pimps parked outside in big pretty Cadillac cars
 Cleaner than a broke-dick dog
 Sitting in a big fine hog
 Dressed very fine in a mohair silk vine
 But Jim Dale'll die next
 Cause the white man's got a god complex
 Hey brother, what's your sport, my man?
 I got just the thing for you
 Only costs ten and two
 What you gonna do, baby?
 I got black ones, brown ones
 Wed ones, yellow ones
 I even got a white one if you wanna buy some
 Yeah, that's right
 2-50-8, play it straight
 I got it all worked out
 You know what I'm talking about
 Been reading my dream book
 Ain't no way in the world
 A kid gon' get took
 Nigga, what you mean I didn't hit
 Nigga, you full of shit
 Lick dice, uh, now seven
 C'mon be nice and hit eleven
 Well what do you know, it's Little Joe
 Hey my man, got 20 dollars say
 Little Joe don't blow
 Ha, baby needs a pair of shoes
 Ah, papa's got the funky blues
 Ah, mama plays the crossword in the news
 Snake eyes...
 Sorry, nigga, you lose
 The line forms to the rear, lady
 And I don't care if you never cash your welfare checks
 Cause the white man's got a god complex
 But I got ten babies I ain't got no man
 I ain't got no choice but to hold out my hand
 And feed my young ones the best way I can
 Hey man, what you mean no doubles on blackjack
 Punk, you better change that rule cause I ain't no fool
 You better bee cool, Jim, or you'll die next
 Cause the white man's got a god complex
 Hey, my man, uh, I wanna cop a nickel bag
 You say all you got is skag
 Wow that's a drag, cause uh
 I don't wanna cop no
 Dope is... death next
 Cause the white man's got a god complex
 Hey baby, where's the gig at tonight?
 Well, there's one over at Slick's
 For faggots and tricks
 There's one around graveyard's
 Side of town that'll cost you a pound
 But if you don't know what I know
 You better pack your piece, at least
 Or you'll die next
 Cause the white man's got a god complex
 Mr. Stein, I done paid enough rent
 For this pad to be mine
 But you just want to cheat me cause I ain't your kind
 Damn, can't you see the place is falling down?
 No, you can't dig it cause you ain't never around
 Damn I'm so poor
 I don't know what in the hell I'm gonna do any more
 Not from this day to the next
 Cause the white man's got a god complex
 I'm making guns!
 (I'm god!)
 (oh god!)
 I'm making bombs!
 (I'm god!)
 I'm making gas!
 (I'm god!)
 I'm making freak machines!
 (I'm god!)
 Birth control pills!
 (I'm god!)
 Killed indians and discovered him!
 (I'm god!)
 Kill the Japanese with the a-bomb!
 (I'm god!)
 Killed and still killing black people!
 (I'm god!)
 Enslaving the earth!
 (I'm god!)
 Done went to the moon!
 (I'm god!)
 Oh god!
 Oh god!
 Oh god!
 Oh god! oh god!
 Oh god!
 Oh god! oh god!
 Ohgodohgodohgodohgod
 Oh gggggggggggaaaahhhhhhhhhd!
 (spelled backwards is DOG.)