| I who always who the way the pallbearer, long before the rigors of college
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| But the most famous advice with how the streets named in our honor
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| Martin Luther King Drive and Malcolm X Boulevard
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| Both debunk the myth of respectability and bruise that no matter the politics
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| All black boys are doomed to die by bullets, but how could you complain
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| We demand justice for Breonna and George, I pray that you rest well
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| When I was locked, I witnessed a murder right in the next cll
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| The COs beat that brother to dath for smuggling nextails
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| Killed him while he was cuffed and I bet that made all their chests well
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| Elderberries with fresh kale, immune to your viruses that infect males
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| In tune with the Bible and all its possessed spells
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| No need to touch Hell, we felt the brother’s pain
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| He was suffocated with knee, now the country’s waiting to exhale
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| I’m even killed without being killed
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| I demand respect and I won’t leave until
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| I’ma bet on black like I was Stephen Hill
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| Living in them shacks and thinking we should kill
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| Now they say it’s cap, you thinking we should kneel
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| How they held us back will be a secret still
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| You don’t hear them screeching wheels
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| You don’t hear them shots fire, firearm I keep concealed
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| Plantation cops hired, they’re here to police the field
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| American dream, you sleeping if you believe it’s real
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| How you think my people feel?
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| We ain’t dodging bullets ‘cause we’re seeking thrills
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| I done seen some shit that’ll make a preacher squeal
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| They say that we’re sick because the streets is ill
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| Heart is cold enough to give the reaper chills
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| Everything I speak surreal
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| Record labels, keep your deal
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| I just told my momma she don’t need them pills
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| Screaming, «fuck Your Honor, we don’t need appeals»
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| Speaking of pills, I need to speak to Bill
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| How could you hurt your wife? |
| He serving life, I need to see Camille
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| Modern day warfare, they’re trying to kill us off here
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| Them days that we all feared, they say life ain’t all fair
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| Shoutout to Jemele Hill, the haters took her off air
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| But now we know that Hell’s real because my people all here
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| Shit that I’d be forced to write, I’m in the mind of Kobe before his flight
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| Was he nervous? |
| Was he relaxed? |
| Did he think to call his wife?
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| Was it service? |
| Did she collapse when she heard he lost his life?
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| What a circus, media traps, just try to ignore the hype
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| Somebody had to wipe the blood up off the cross of Christ
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| Somebody had to tell Martin King he was forced to fight
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| Somebody had to teach Ray to play when he lost his sight
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| Life is quick, the words of a Malcolm X on a Harlem night
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| (Goddamn), I’m just saying I’ll do the dirty work
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| Never trust the word from a fiend’s mouth on the 31st
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| You ever seen a preacher with Cadillacs in a dirty church?
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| Think we deserve this curse? |
| Know where you heard this first
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| «Be my victim» |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Hereditary , by - Ransom. Song from the album Directors Cut Scene 3, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп