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God Send
Pharoahe Monch
My mom is in the bedroom, cryin again
Sister's on the street corner, lyin again
Just heard about another one of my niggaz dyin again
I'm tryin again to make moves..
I'll be damned if we go hungry
Ever since my pops passed the responsibilities belonged to me
This song you see is like an ode to God
that he blessed my last breath to be Allah U Akbar
And this city is hard, tenement buildings are barred
incarcerated and scarred, no sentiment for when it becomes
time for war I'm tryin to score like Bernard King
My vocal box sling verbal cocaine like the GOVERNMENT
I told you I'd hurt the music
Travellin back, bustin shots at {blank} before Christ was persecuted
Mathematically we live at right angles
Fuck the star spangled, the makers of fallen angels
danglin from moon crescents, I persevere, breathe the air
inhale the effervesence of life
This street game is stiflin I'm triflin upholdin a rifle
Peerin from behind the eyes of God, we at odds with ourselves
What is it worth when this Scale the walls of hell
I seen it all through the eyes of a needle
Depletion of the planet, brainwash of the people
Niggaz'll never learn (shit) we just concern about
who's fuckin who, when time is of significance
Ghost, we disregard the most magnificent
Eat of the fruit that is poisonous and lethal
Stuck in the crux of the spell with the evil
Credits about to roll and hell is the sequel
[Prince Poetry]
Incarcerated Scarfaces in all places
Crack sales rise, failed lives, cops and robber car chases
YHustlers bury money in Garcia Vega cigar cases
Give the
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תודה, המערכת תבדוק את הקליפ ותוסיף אותו למאגר
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© זכויות היוצרים שמורות למחברים
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