Lyrics BETHLEHEM/SC FREESTYLE - Victor Kwesi Mensah

BETHLEHEM/SC FREESTYLE

Yeah
Man, this nigga Thelonious always give me sumn I can breathe on
Bleed on
Shout to Johnny Smalls
Uh, this is ground zero, I’m rising from the ashes, uh
The first step on the road to Damascus
I redefined my narrative I’m Frederick Douglas, uh
I can’t harbor hate, although they never loved us, nah
I tell my guys I miss 'em, they in dire conditions
Tryna survive in prison, praying they don’t die in Dixon
Bro said send him some pics of me with Australian bitches
Back in America, they treat us like we Aborigines
Original man, they tried to whit out our history
As if the first universities wasn’t Egyptian
Lauryn Hill said it bst, it’s just miseducation
And Section Eight is just modern-day segregation
I’m drinking from the whites-only fountain of youth
They heard the caged bird sing, so I bought me a coupe
Pardon the roof, it gets shy in the summertime
When momma said, «Be home before ten,» I had my number nine
Thugging outside with them Hooligans, ditching school again
The 'Raq was my holy land, like the tribe of Judah and them
Persecuted at home, like Philistines in Hebron is
I’m staring past the wall, from a rooftop in Bethlehem
Remind me of project halls in Lawless Gardens
It’s the same if you go back to Africa, Marcus Garvey
A people without knowledge is a tree without roots
I’m a walking contradiction, I’m in Saint Laurent boots
Mobbin', standing on the Westside with Chairman Fred Hampton
'Bout to catch a red-eye, back to my bed in a mansion, yeah
When did hip-hop turn into hip propaganda?
(Uh)
They killed Dr. Sebi, they make mills off of cancer
The business is keep us addicted to pharmacists
So we too preoccupied with prescriptions for politics
Give 'em mass incarceration, leave the children fatherless
I’m the voice of a generation, we won’t be silenced, uh
It’s the business my love
I’m from the home of the Black Stone Rangers
Where they invented gang banging
And they twist up they fingas, like they opps in a backwood
From where Gotti Moe was hanging, he got killed there
Pulled him out his wheelchair, photographed him with his pants around his ankles
Where they indoctrinate young, hit the freight trains for guns
Drive 'em up from Indiana, or Tennessee with the 'Bamas
And blue police camera’s sit high, like gargoyles
Crack your head to the yolk for thinking you hard-boiled
Better, simmer it down, take that shit downtown
Six flags on Halloween, it’s fright night in Terror Town
And them killers in Killer Ward, catch you in River North
If you whippin' foreign, they pull your ass out the doors of your Aventador
Eat Flaming Hots for breakfast, 'cause that’s all they can afford
Forty-four percent of Englewood beneath the poverty line from where they living
poor
And they can’t make up their mind
Who’s the best of all time Larry Hoover or Jeff Fort
Who drop dimes?
Load Glock 9's and John Doe 'em
Where they changed the name from the Chi to the 'Raq to Drillinois
And the winter is brutal, put the toaster to your strudel, make you doo-doo
You on bed rest, living off ramen noodles
Where the North pole is bundled, and it’s Cobras out in Humboldt
You could get booked like Mowgli by the Moes out in the Jungle
And the Lord’s in Holy City will make you do the holy ghost
Shake you down like Diddy, if they suspect that you holding dope
You can’t play around in K-Town
It’s get down or lay down, buss downs, grey hounds
Throwing L’s in L-Town, bumping DJ L sounds
Active shooters in the city, this is not a drill, trust me it’s real now
Came for a photo op' to show your opps
You wanted to visit O Block, ended up having to stay 'cause you got shot, nigga