| Nah nah son
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| You ain’t really gotta go out there and kill them man
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| Give me the gun, lemme talk to you for a minute
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| Gimme the gun, sit down, lemme talk to you
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| I see your destiny revealed looking through my windshield
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| A little child running wild since Curtis Mayfield
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| A lot of homies got killed over bagging up crills
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| Moms stressed out for real when she adding the bills
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| I get chills from the pain every time that I kneel
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| Now my head is saying prayer for the rest of Israel
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| Ever since crack came leaving the projects lame
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| Cause we never did invest in no money we made
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| It’s just a dead end street, one way to the grave
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| You see the funeral arrangements unlocking the cage
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| Some will join FBI start dropping them names
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| We was hustling for who when they copped their caine
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| CIA traced Escobar, they wired his plane
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| They tapped the phone calls of Malcolm so the '70s changed
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| We became drugs and guns with God Body names
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| Tag graffiti on the walls of trains, then form into gangs
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| Now we got old gold wishes and project dreams
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| Coke in our genes for all the neighbours who done turned into fiends
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| Some controlled like puppets on strings but who cares
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| When you can’t get a dollar from none of your peers
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| Sit on the stairs with our weed and beers with ideas
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| How to make it out the ghettoes and rise to millionaires
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| KnowhatI’msayin', God?
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| How long your crew been known?
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| There’s real craziness in society
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| They tryin' to steal man
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| I’m a street G but still son I write it deeply
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| When I zone like Phillis Wheatley, that’s how you greet me Dead poets give me the motive, if they don’t promote it Stay devoted, stay focused 'til there’s plagues and locusts
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| Cause you can’t buy your soul back from Lucifer’s office
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| Tell Bush we about to make the hood shoot at his office
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| His tradition in Skull and Bones sleeping in coffins
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| Like Gogathan they wanna see me on crosses
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| German Pope sold canned abortions
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| I slow it down, shit I break it in portions
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| You heard right, I ain’t speaking in Martian
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| I’m hood but I’m conscious, todays that’s nonsense
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| I do this for the slaves and the brains they washing
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| Who trained with the marksmen who slept on the park bench
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| Who hunt men coming out their apartments
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| Cause too much money got him thinking he Clark Kent
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| Get treated like you dark skin as soon as you as it’s all spent
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| Got patriotic hoes and America’s yard pimps
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| Yo yo I dealt with that crush man
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| I just do whatever I do about buildin' in the street
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| Yo 7th pass me that forty man
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| Yo man shit is crazy man
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| But that shit is what’s sellin' to the youths man
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| They buildin off that shit man
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| Cuz you know people do it without no health care
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| It’s like. |
| youknowwhatImean?
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| When you look at it man, there’s not enough homes
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| Like we gon' have homeless people
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| And the bastards there buildin' with billions and billions of dollars
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| That practically print up the money, you know?
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| That’s why they rule the real estate property… |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Poor Righteous Dreams , by - Blue Sky Black Death. Song from the album The Razah's Ladder Instrumentals, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп