Lyrics Like Us - Bambu

Like Us

It don’t matter whether Compton or Hunter’s Point
Richmond or Echo Park
Cops can’t tell your ass apart so they gon' tear yo' ass apart
Regardless of however much money you can clock
Jay-Z and Barack didn’t change my block
It don’t change how we seen on TV’s mainstream
God forbid your rock a kufi, you must be on that extreme
Side of things, that Islamic garment might get you a branded
«Savage killer» in a jungle verses murder in the sand
While Michelle’s walking ass launch attacks on a fad
That could cripple little hipsters rocking pink colored rags
Goddamn
Goddamn, peace to all my people in Iran
Black kufi covering they face, Russian in they hand
Toe to toe with nothing mo' than «Don't fuck with our folks»
In the Philippians Islam is in the very same boat
But that CNN show, brown camo down marines
Passing lollipops out while holding M16s
Trust me
I know what they really think about me
A black president will never change what American’s see
Fuck if they don’t like us
They ain’t gotta like us
I don’t give a, I don’t give a
Fuck if they don’t like us
It’s cool if they don’t listen cause
I’m through with the talking just
Know that we give a half a fuck if they don’t like us
Noooo
They throw our women on the auction block
Hoping you’ll go out and cop the new shit in the parking lot
What the fuck do thongs and a butt cheek clapping
Gotta do with half the videos relation to the rapping?
See maybe I’m just lucky I don’t have to hang with those hoes
Every sister that I roll wit stay fashionable
Ever sister that I surround myself wit don’t trick
You might catch 'em at a rally spitting game at a pig
But
At the end of it all
The oppressor is the target not the victim in a draw
Dangle money like a carrot and the hungry gon' bite
Especially when she told her beauty is second to the white
Now it’s white women collagen and lips, fake tits
Now we overlook a sister cause a white girl thick
Uhhhh
That’s me scratching my head
I have never, I will never brah, we’d rather be…
I don’t make rap music for the sake of making rap
Even when I drop a track on some rapper type yap
I’m still going at the status quo over the slap
I drop a big name rapper like The Game on every track
And the reason is I don’t give a fuck about no money
If my wife ain’t hungry and my son ain’t hungry
While a third of the world still hungry off funny style
Uncle Tom jiggabos, take flicks with your money out
Brag about how you dropped a payment on a house
On just the top grill in your stinking ass mouth
I’ll call all of y’all out like the sun going down
At your mama screaming at you like, «Get yo' ass in the house.»
There is nothing that can justify the excess of living
While we still flood every last one of their prisons
Educating our children to compete with their children
Can’t happen till we tell them they’re better than what you tell 'em