| She said she was tired
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| Tired of mailing her sons away
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| Tired of guns summoning death
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| Telling the press, too frustrated to yell and it’s messing with her
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| I remember when they told me I wasn’t the homie
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| I was a segment
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| She said it with tears with her head in my chest and
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| I felt the burden, I felt it burn up, I saw the fire
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| I saw the furnace, who turned it higher?
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| I heard and turned and grabbed some dirt
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| She said that my son’s inside it
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| It’s hard to pray and say the name of what 81 invited but who will listen?
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| This prison system is lynching my babies
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| His bail is higher than what put him inside and it’s crazy
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| Is he a colleague from Riker’s Island with violence
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| Or maybe he gotta die to be safe
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| And I’m still alive, let us pray
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| Life is getting harder, God I need thee
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| Gotta walk on water where you are, oh God I need thee
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| God I’m losing focus, hold me close because I need thee
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| Never let me go, oh don’t I know it, God I need thee
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| He said he was woke
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| He tired of sleeping, he tired of weeping for bodies |
| Nobody try believing the body is blind, I see it
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| He said it with red in his eye
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| The color that smothered his brother under that sheet
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| He mumbles something I seen
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| The other day when I was walking with him
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| Through the park with lots of children, dogs of all civilians
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| No guards to stop and frisk or draw revolvers, all the privilege
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| We all so different, walks beside a Christian
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| Can’t decide the difference, I provide a bridge
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| He frowns and says he wants to hate 'em
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| Put a noose around his neck and text him «how's it hanging?»
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| Treat him like his skin’s the curse of Ham, he knows it’s Satan
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| When the press becomes oppressive, it’s us trading places
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| So he bids him grace and praises
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| I can’t get tired
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| I can’t get tired
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| Life is getting harder, God I need thee
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| Gotta walk on water where you are, oh God I need thee
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| God I’m losing focus, hold me close because I need thee
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| Never let me go, oh don’t I know it, God I need thee
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| She said she was tired |