| I did not come to play with you hoes
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| I be up too damn early
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| Few Joe Cola’s short of a case
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| Gaps in my life, absent from photos, somehow kept the tapes
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| Smack the taste out yo' mouth, steamed milk, coffee and cheddar scone
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| I wandered Azania without a phone
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| Ordered step
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| Flash in death, when my dick get wet
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| Hex breaker for hire, ten thousand tiny township fires ablaze
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| I believe in survivors
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| Lowkey oppressors call me brother
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| Lowkey oppressors call me brother
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| Lowkey oppressors call me brother
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| Black men are white men too when convenient
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| Speak it like you mean it
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| And I never grab the mic without grabbing my-
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| I’mma read, I’mma read, I’mma read, I’mma read, I’mma read
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| I’mma read right through you
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| Motherfucker right through you
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| This is joy, this is summer
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| Keep alive
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| Keep alive
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| Stay alive
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| This is joy, this is summer
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| Keep alive
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| Keep alive
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| Stay alive
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| Jake radio, squawk and squeal
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| Visible exhale, Nor’easter chill
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| Im in layers of black
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| Stretching these old bones, pointed toes
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| Red and blue strobe play me on wax forever
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| Blood on the doorframe, steady leaking
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| Told him «take that shit across the way»
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| Please pass me by
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| I score fiends shooting the fair one
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| Life ain’t but fuck it
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| Sad chord shuffle, rushed percussion muffle
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| Short barrel red potato, move when I say so
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| They know, they know
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| Look mom I get paid for my thoughts, sort of
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| Yes that make room for me and mine
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| Levi on the way in due time
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| Shit don’t rhyme no more, but making more sense in my mind
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| I been all kinds of poor
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| I know the line divide and surviving and thriving
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| What side? |
| What side? |
| What side?
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| There’s a riot going on
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| What a time you chose to be born
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| Billy Woods wrote that line first though
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| Nah nah
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| Lone wolf and cub via Gary Grice
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| Hold your fire 'til you see the whites
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| Of their eyes, shocked life had one last surprise
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| I was surprised to find people rather die than cut you a slice of the pie
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| Nigga was aggy talkin' 'bout «I gots to gets mine»
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| Thats when, I knew I’d never see him alive again
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| Spliff like a pen, everything I wrote is in the wind
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| We didn’t win, and I can’t see doing it all over |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Root Farm , by - Armand Hammer. Song from the album Paraffin, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп