00:00/00:00
外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/5860c7eb5767ccbbbcc6cd7ff5ece608.mp3
点击复制
Poor Righteous Dreams (Explicit) - Blue Sky Black Death/Hell Razah
Nah nah son
You ain't really gotta go out there
And kill them man
Give me the gun
Lemme talk to you for a minute
Gimme the gun sit down
Lemme talk to you
I see your destiny revealed
Looking through my windshield
A little child running wild
Since Curtis Mayfield
A lot of homies got killed
Over bagging up crills
Moms stressed out for real
When she adding the bills
I get chills from the pain
Every time that I kneel
Now my head is saying prayer
For the rest of Israel
Ever since crack came
Leaving the projects lame
'Cause we never did invest
In no money we made
It's just a dead end street
One way to the grave
You see the funeral arrangements
Unlocking the cage
Some will join FBI start
Dropping them names
We was hustling for who
When they copped their caine
CIA traced Escobar
They wired his plane
They tapped the phone calls of Malcolm
So the '70s changed
We became *** and guns
With God Body names
Tag graffiti on the walls of trains
Then form into gangs
Now we got old gold wishes
And project dreams
Coke in our genes for all the neighbours
Who done turned into fiends
Some controlled like puppets
On strings but who cares
When you can't get a dollar
From none of your peers
Sit on the stairs with our w**d
And beers with ideas
How to make it out the ghettoes
And rise to millionaires
I'm a street G but still son
I write it deeply
When I zone like Phillis Wheatley
That's how you greet me
Dead poets give me the motive
If they don't promote it
Stay devoted stay focused
'Til there's plagues and locusts
'Cause you can't buy your soul back
From Lucifer's office
Tell Bush we about to make the hood
Shoot at his office
His tradition in Skull
And Bones sleeping in coffins
Like Gogathan
They wanna see me on crosses
German Pope sold canned abortions
I slow it down
Sh*t I break it in portions
You heard right
I ain't speaking in Martian
I'm hood but I'm conscious
Todays that's nonsense
I do this for the slaves
And the brains they washing
Who trained with the marksmen
Who slept on the park bench
Who hunt men coming out
Their apartments
'Cause too much money
Got him thinking he Clark Kent
Get treated like you dark skin
As soon as you as it's all spent
Got patriotic hoes
And America's yard pimps
Yo yo I dealt with that crush man
I just do whatever I do
About buildin' in the street
Now we got old gold wishes
And project dreams
Coke in our genes for all the neighbours
Who done turned into fiends
Some controlled like puppets
On strings but who cares
When you can't get a dollar
From none of your peers
Sit on the stairs with our w**d
And beers with ideas
How to make it out the ghettoes
And rise to millionaires
Yo 7th pass me that forty man
Yo man sh*t is crazy man
But that sh*t is
What's sellin' to the youths man
They buildin off that sh*t man
Cause you know people do it
Without no health care
It's like you know what I mean
When you look at it man
There's not enough homes
Like we gon' have homeless people
And the bastards there buildin'
With billions and billions of dollars
That practically print up the money
You know
That's why they rule
The real estate property