| Yeah, yeah
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| I said niggas pop shit all the time
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| Me I don’t trip 'cause they know I’m never lyin'
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| Lookin' between the lines
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| Feel like Ali in his prime
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| As-Salaam-Alaikum, alaikum salaam
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| Peace to my Slimes, and peace to my Crips
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| Neighborhood police and they always on the shift
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| Protect my Bloods, look out for my cause
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| When it’s all said and done, we be the realest there was
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| Who else if just not us?
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| If you 'bout this revolution, please stand up
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| We ain’t got no one to trust
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| Time is running up, feel the burn in my gut
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| And if you got the guts, scream, «Fuck Donald Trump»
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| We don’t give a fuck, never had one to give
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| Never will forget, probably never will forgive
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| Uh, I guess that’s just how it is
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| And they still won’t let the Black man live
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| Feel the energy surge through my veins when I flow
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| Mentally, I can never be controlled
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| No sympathy for foes, my enemies exposed
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| Will they remember me when I’m gone?
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| I say rockabye, rockabye, rockabye baby
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| Shotta boy, shotta boy, shotta go crazy
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| Me nuh play games, so please don’t play me
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| Look at what they made me
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| I’m part of the reason they still Crippin' out in Brooklyn
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| Before I was an artist I would book 'em, mm
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| Push ya shit back while on them front line, nigga, ya lunch time
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| I’m by them stop sign, you love that wi-fi
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| On mamas for them dirty dollars, brains on collars
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| Park the car around the corner, I’ll be there in a second
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| The murder weapon on me, fuck if this bitch start flamin'
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| The cops patrollin', get that punk ass American flag ceremony
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| Aww, damn am I going too far?
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| Give you some flavor to borrow
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| Bitch yeah it came with the car
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| It’s off-white, leveled the hard
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| You ball, might come with a charge
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| Your kids don’t know you no more
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| Your girl’s draws stay on the floor
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| No phone call accepted in weeks
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| Your son picked up on your beef, real shit
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| From gettin' lynched in field into ownin' buildings
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| Getting millions, influencin' white children
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| And oddly we still ain’t even
|
| Still a small percentage of blacks that’s eating
|
| Same routines, the same dope fiends
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| Them nightmare dreams, forever murder season
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| Bad intentions to them picket fences
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| They gave us guns but won’t hire us, nigga?
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| So we killin' senseless
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| Homies murked on the bus benches
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| Retaliation 'cause his mama cryin'
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| Kept it gangsta 'til I modify 'em
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| Rockabye, rockabye
|
| Feel the energy surge through my veins when I flow
|
| Mentally, I can never be controlled
|
| No sympathy for foes, my enemies exposed
|
| Will they remember me when I’m gone?
|
| I say rockabye, rockabye, rockabye baby
|
| Shotta boy, shotta boy, shotta go crazy
|
| Me nuh play games, so please don’t play me
|
| Look at what they made me |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song ROCKABYE BABY , by - Joey Bada$$. Song from the album ALL-AMERIKKKAN BADA$$, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп