Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song A Christmas F*****g Miracle, artist - Run the Jewels.
Date of issue: 25.06.2013
Song language: English
A Christmas F*****g Miracle |
That was me in BK on Atlantic |
Never looked both ways, ran in traffic |
Pops went away but I stayed, vagrant |
Placed where the steel and cement became nature |
Love what you did with the place, it looks gorgeous |
Cityscape where the blood of good men courses |
And the dreamers are bull trapped in porcelain |
Take a knee to the gods and get horse shit |
Wanna live for the thrill? |
They’ll arrange it |
Got a bevy of imps to spit hatred |
Shit’ll get in your head and cause panic |
Have you desperately begging to get famous |
Get your dignity dirty and left orphaned |
Sanity on the fringe of distorted |
Who are they to just take shit and hoard it? |
Who am I that I don’t get my portion? |
The most impressionable minds |
Get molested and informed by manipulating forces |
Don’t fret, little man, don’t cry |
They can never take the energy inside you were born with |
Knowing that, understand you could never be poor |
You already won the war, you were born rich |
You can only take the energy you had |
Going back to the realm or the home where your lord is |
Whoever, whatever that lord is |
Couldn’t give a fuck if you ever made fortunes |
Fuck anyone ever tryin' to run that bum shit |
Send 'em to the flames where the orcs live |
Them and the lost minds thinking they’re smarter than us |
Don’t understand love’s importance |
And we can weaponize that, bring 'em back to the truth |
Where the ashes and dust got formed in |
The beat breaks and your teeth break |
Keep your canines embedded in my knuckles as a keepsake |
It would seem your veneers just mere souvenirs |
Falling out your mouth and on to the landscape |
Me and El-P do the secret handshake |
Then I pummel punch a pumpkin head punk in his pimple face |
'Til he’s punch drunk 'cause he’s sweet as a pound cake |
(Ain't he pussy, Mike?) Yeah, El, I’ll say |
Into the wild, wild style ghetto child running wild |
Where the lions and the owls stay |
The powers that be even offered up reprieves |
Told us they ain’t take us out if we bow to our knees |
But they can give that to the kings and the queens |
And the worshipers of idols and followers of things |
'Cause I would rather be in the jungle with the savages |
It’s kill or be killed, and I’m working with the averages |
My professor emeritus |
Say we been cursed being brought to the AmeriKKKas |
How you raise a whole human single parent |
No marriages, no sense of heritage? |
Planned Parenthood helping plan miscarriages |
But I’m lucky mommy already had a narrative |
Product of a teenage love, my arrogance |
Derives from the pride in the job my parents did |
Named Mike, I was told it was godlike |
Even danced with the devil, came out alright |
Okay, honor y’all? |
No way |
Still spell AmeriKKKa with the triple K |
Word up to Spice 1 and O’Shea |
And any MC peeping what I go through |
Real rap, my last line’s so true |
Rest in peace to Pimp C and Camu, too |
We do it for you |