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作词 : Michael Render/Jaime Meline |
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作曲 : Michael Render/Jaime Meline |
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That was me in BK on Atlantic |
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Never looked both ways, ran in traffic |
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Pops went away but I stayed, vagrant |
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Placed where the steel and cement became nature |
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Love what you did with the place, it looks gorgeous |
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Cityscape where the blood of good men courses |
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And the dreamers are bull trapped in porcelain |
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Take a knee to the gods and get horse shit |
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Wanna live for the thrill? They'll arrange it |
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Got a bevy of imps to spit hatred |
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Shit'll get in your head and cause panic |
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Have you desperately begging to get famous |
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Get your dignity dirty and left orphaned |
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Sanity on the fringe of distorted |
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Who are they to just take shit and hoard it? |
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Who am I that I don't get my portion? |
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The most impressionable minds |
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Get molested and informed by manipulating forces |
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Don't fret, little man, don't cry |
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They can never take the energy inside you were born with |
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Knowing that, understand you could never be poor |
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You already won the war, you were born rich |
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You can only take the energy you had |
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Going back to the realm or the home where your lord is |
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Whoever, whatever that lord is |
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Couldn't give a **** if you ever made fortunes |
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**** anyone ever tryin' to run that bum shit |
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Send 'em to the flames where the orcs live |
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Them and the lost minds thinking they're smarter than us |
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Don't understand love's importance |
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And we can weaponize that, bring 'em back to the truth |
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Where the ashes and dust got formed in |
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The beat breaks and your teeth break |
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Keep your canines embedded in my knuckles as a keepsake |
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It would seem your veneers just mere souvenirs |
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Falling out your mouth and on to the landscape |
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Me and El-P do the secret handshake |
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Then I pummel punch a pumpkin head punk in his pimple face |
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'Til he's punch drunk 'cause he's sweet as a pound cake |
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(Ain't he pussy, Mike?) Yeah, El, I'll say |
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Into the wild, wild style ghetto child running wild |
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Where the lions and the owls stay |
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The powers that be even offered up reprieves |
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Told us they ain't take us out if we bow to our knees |
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But they can give that to the kings and the queens |
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And the worshipers of idols and followers of things |
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'Cause I would rather be in the jungle with the savages |
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It's kill or be killed, and I'm working with the averages |
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My professor emeritus |
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Say we been cursed being brought to the AmeriKKKas |
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How you raise a whole human single parent |
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No marriages, no sense of heritage? |
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Planned Parenthood helping plan miscarriages |
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But I'm lucky mommy already had a narrative |
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Product of a teenage love, my arrogance |
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Derives from the pride in the job my parents did |
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Named Mike, I was told it was godlike |
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Even danced with the devil, came out alright |
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Okay, honor y'all? No way |
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Still spell AmeriKKKa with the triple K |
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Word up to Spice 1 and O'Shea |
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And any MC peeping what I go through |
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Real rap, my last line's so true |
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Rest in peace to Pimp C and Camu, too |
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We do it for you |
