Letras
Destination is required
GPS won't allow it
Murder music was the tone
Frequencies ultra violent
Waves crashing thru my dome
No cap just the silence
Unless ya hear sirens
From a trident
It's a myth Trump and Biden
Don't Mistaken the opps
Enemies quiver then lock
Quicker than my hair on top
Finna go Ape shit in box-es
They feedin is tox-ins
Then moc us like sins
They committing the most
Human atrocities
More folks in poverty
Closed minds be lobbying
Influencing policy
Coast to coast an abomination
In Obama's nation you get shot on sight
Ain't no hesitation like Kyrie you get handled
Way back before inauguration
I learned the scandal of the bastards plight
Used fornication to rape the world blind
Dismantle ya third eye
The eagle just flew by
But it look like a vulture
That hate black skin
Tougher than leather jackets
Or school with metal detectors
A pool of blood is the ethics
Easily fooled by the metrics
Kudos to those they can't mess with
Who knows they might have a death wish
The reaper always collecting
We never learning our lesson
America is a weapon
Land of the free
Home of the brave
Land of the free
Home of the brave
Bitch it's whatever you want
It's whatever you like
So imma keep it blunt
No need for a light
Cuz we like it at night
When the vampires suckin blood
I'm a sucker for spite
Ain't duckin' from fights
Uncle ruckus among us
Some of us hungry for knives
To backstab us
All over blue cabbage
Oliver twist snappin
Over facts I'm a bastard
Yet i'm a father pastor
True Religion I pray to
Consumerism a prison
That Made me flow on a riddum
The only chance I was given
No chano I made decisions
Avoiding death was the mission
But once I stepped off the path
The co defendant was missin
I took the charge like I'm pippen
Saw through the court n the system
Somehow I still lacked the vision
To see myself in the mirror
America just a prison
That muddy all our perception
While stealing all our reflection
They tell you it's such a blessin
But in the end you'll be yellin
PUT YO HANDS TO THE MOTHER FUCKIN SKY
DO YO DANCE PRAY TO GOD YOU ALIVE
NO ROMANCE JUST A NIGGA WIT A PLAN
JUMP THE BROOM RAID THE TOMB THEN EVENTUALLY YOU DIE
PUT YO HANDS TO THE MOTHER FUCKIN SKY
DO YO DANCE PRAY TO GOD YOU ALIVE
NO ROMANCE JUST A NIGGA WIT A PLAN
JUMP THE BROOM RAID THE TOMB THEN EVENTUALLY YOU DIE