about
My views on struggle in the Black community.
lyrics
Dead Presidents
We hostile to the young and the reckless,
Taken what they need, Leavin nothing but the excess,
Knocking down our dreams, they refuse to answer questions,
Struggle for our means, We hustle til we breathless.
Fighting for what seems like its something worth protecting,
Innocence is gone, so by death we're not affected.
Like Obama winning prizes, when a year ain't yet behind him,
In our finest moments, our skin can leave some blind.
Dyed black, you'll die black, escape, you'll never find that,
So accept and move on, or forever be reminded,
That you living in sureal hype, standing for what feels right,
Niggas loving struggle, cause they cash in off that fucked life,
Say they hate the game, but then they lovin seeing cracked wives,
Whose baby's craves are coming, and they'll pay to fill that crack pipe.
Want a better life, for my people who strife,
And struggle hard, cause I'm the privileged type, my souls light.
Still we're heavy in the crime knoose, say our mind's are obtuse,
We see at different angles, so that's not an excuse,
I love that abuse, I rip into those who deduce,
Cause I'm a nigger, I must use,
But guess what? I spit truths.
And when you face down in your booze,
Remember who's juiced,
Fucked off my produce,
My quotes as your tattoos,
My girls who you seduce,
Take out and reuse,
And realize I run your life, and never even knew you.
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