Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Chapter 319, artist - clipping.. Date of issue: 15.10.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Chapter 319 |
| Screwed Up Click, make the dollars fold |
| Got to heard the boys, wineberry over gold |
| Screwed Up Click, make the dollars fold |
| Got to heard the boys, wineberry over gold |
| Left, right, left |
| How long can we holler when it ain’t no breath? |
| You keep killin' fathers without no regrets |
| Then keep on countin' dollars 'til it ain’t none left |
| So the streets gon' keep on marching like left, right, left |
| Fuck yo' empty promises, these ain’t no threats |
| Streets is taking all of it; |
| you made yo' bed |
| Fix it, always problems, we ain’t goin' nowhere |
| Bring it straight up to your door, now who run it, hoe? |
| A knee to the neck is this week’s |
| Symbol of shit you’ve been reapin' |
| As a reaper of people, there’s no equal |
| To the police and they be their own sequel |
| So consistently as a monster |
| Paid by a system set up to prosper |
| On victims of the historic situating as property |
| People that are melanated, so easily separated, know what? |
| Fuck the history lesson, you know you know by now |
| We do not know-how |
| You keep playing dumb, but still be trusted with guns, you must be defunded |
| This march is not a one-off |
| This march is not the misaimed warning shot |
| This march a foot in yo' fucking throat |
| To choke out the whole assumption that you are here to protect us |
| This government doesn’t respect us |
| And somehow they seem to expect us to accept |
| The power a piece of shit millionaire president wants to project |
| Fuck are you getting at? |
| Get the fuck back in the bunker |
| We taking back spaces |
| 'Til you manage to make them safe for black faces |
| That’s up to the fact that America’s racist |
| Donald Trump is a white supremacist, full stop |
| If you vote for him again, you’re a white supremacist, full stop |
| Call it like it is, and then let the rims spin 'til they full stop |
| Put one up for Big Floyd, the march is not goin' to stop |
| Screwed Up Click, make the dollars fold |
| Got to heard the boys, wineberry over gold |
| Screwed Up Click, make the dollars fold |
| Got to heard the boys, wineberry over gold |
| It go left, right, left |
| How long can we holler when it ain’t no breath? |
| You keep killin' fathers without no regrets |
| Then keep on countin' dollars 'til it ain’t none left |
| So the streets gon' keep on marching like left, right, left |
| Fuck yo' empty promises, these ain’t no threats |
| Streets is taking all of it; |
| you made yo' bed |
| Fix it, always problems, we ain’t goin' nowhere |
| Bring it straight up to your door, now who run it, hoe? |
| You wanna shoot without being shot back |
| Got news for you, no one’s really 'bout that |
| You got the guns, but we got the shout |
| To vote the mouthpiece, the clout and the loud pack |
| (Got guns too) |
| Ya facts? |
| Yeah, we doubt that |
| Show us receipts so we will denounce that |
| Take ya tear gas, inhale like an ounce of that cookie cake |
| Your bullets all bounce |
| Even when they break flesh, you are not safe |
| We are watching every motherfucking move you make |
| Play it back on cameras so no one can mistake |
| The order of events that lead to prove another life you take |
| And if the verdict come back less than murder |
| Don’t be surprised when your streets are burnin' |
| This anger ain’t misplaced; |
| it is turning cop cars to bonfires 'til you learn |
| If you profit off this system, you should make them dollars fold |
| In the pockets that don’t fund the death of black people, this whole |
| Fuckin' country 'bout the money, so watch where your money go |
| Let 'em know that we watching how they roll |
| Donald Trump is a white supremacist, full stop |
| If you vote for him again, you’re a white supremacist, full stop |
| America can be better, but we must call it out 'til it full stop |
| Put one up for Breonna, the marching not going to stop |
| Left, right, left |
| How long can we holler when it ain’t no breath? |
| You keep killin' daughters without no regrets |
| Then keep on countin' dollars 'til it ain’t none left |
| So the streets gon' keep on marching like left, right, left |
| Fuck yo' empty promises, these ain’t no threats |
| Streets is taking all of it; |
| you made yo' bed |
| Fix it, always problems, we ain’t goin' nowhere |
| Bring it straight up to your door, now who run it, hoe? |
| Screwed Up Click, make the dollars fold |
| Got to heard the boys, wineberry over gold |
| Screwed Up Click, make the dollars fold |
| Got to heard the boys, wineberry over gold |