| Young Moolah baby
|
| Happy music, happy people
|
| Happy people
|
| Everything’s alright
|
| Everything is alright
|
| Pop a bottle and celebrate
|
| We made it to a new day
|
| Pop a bottle and celebrate
|
| We done made it to a new day
|
| Oh I take a hit and just elevate
|
| Cause today will be a good day
|
| I got my mind right money right, ready for war
|
| Workin' hard today for a better tomorrow
|
| Hey! |
| blow the horns on 'em
|
| The sun is out, it’s a brand new day and it just dawned on 'em
|
| The smoke in here got 'em floating just like in salt water
|
| And break is fast, we got it cooking just like a short order
|
| Feed the hands with the birds cover the cheetah print
|
| A jungle out there and the jail is the zoo to keep us in
|
| Players in gators is crazy, we feel the need to rock 'em
|
| Furs coming in all different colors like Peter got 'em
|
| Killing yourself for a salary
|
| Look ya line flatter than stomachs of the women that’s running, watching them
|
| calories
|
| Hope that we linking, we smoking and drinking casually
|
| Cause life without living ain’t nothing but a fallacy
|
| Hey, I Say, who’s that peekin' in my window?
|
| Is that sunshine? |
| Is that one time?
|
| Let that sun shine through my living room
|
| Hospitality is what I’m giving you
|
| Harsh reality is what I’ve been through
|
| But I’m not alone, ask her and him too
|
| And they shall tell ya, ain’t nothin' better
|
| Than the smell of a new day
|
| And I know the ocean runs dry and the sky gets dark
|
| And ya don’t see what He’s trying to show ya
|
| And I know the wall may seem tall
|
| But if we help each other I guarantee we get over
|
| And once I’m over, I’ll reach back for my brother
|
| And pull him over as well
|
| Keep our heads high and our noses wide open
|
| Hopin' for that new day smell
|
| Love live life
|
| Yea homie, I been away since I was 16
|
| To tell 'em what I’m 'bout to tell 'em
|
| So I need more than a 16
|
| See I’m the only son of Mary and Joe
|
| So I gotta fulfill my purpose 'fore I’m buried, ya know
|
| My momma say she having visions of me being a missionary
|
| And the hood looking at me as a walking visionary
|
| So I sit back and wonder will I ever have my time to shine
|
| And die like Pac in his prime
|
| Or will I go out like Len Bias and OD before the tryouts
|
| No tell a reaper, no buyout
|
| I’m good, I pray for a head to protection
|
| And I gotta walk the streets with the heat as my protection
|
| Still gotta watch my back, still watch my front home
|
| Cause I seen a lot of niggas die with they gun on
|
| So with that in mind, I just get higher
|
| And pray to the higher Messiah, I’m no liar
|
| And they say that puffing the fire fucks with your memory
|
| But I got a lot of stuff that I don’t wan' remember see
|
| Like when my homie Abbie died
|
| I like how I never seen a man cry 'til I seen Lance died
|
| Never seen my pops cry 'til I seen my Grams died
|
| And I’m here to tell him that I miss my Grams too
|
| And I wish I could hug her for mother’s day too
|
| And I feel the same way that you do
|
| But we gotta still move on so she can just smile down on us
|
| And I don’t want the Lord to ever frown down on us
|
| I know that they really got power in a gun
|
| But I also know that they got power in a tongue
|
| So every time I speak, look I try to speak life
|
| Y’all tweaking for broads, I tweak life
|
| They said I was s’posed to die as a fetus
|
| My momma said I bind that Devil in the name of Jesus
|
| So now I’m here just to talk to y’all
|
| Come and stroll with me homie, let me walk with' y’all
|
| Ten million ways to die so I chose
|
| To get my life right by the end of the road
|
| 'Fore my body in a casket and I’m stiff and froze
|
| 'Fore I’m laying in a morgue with a tag on my toes
|
| I’m here to tell you take heed to the warnings
|
| School shootings, hurricanes, and global warming
|
| Open ya Bibles up with no hesitation
|
| BC was the Genesis, this is Revelations
|
| So you better pick your destination
|
| Tomorrow ain’t promised, better pick your destination
|
| Rest in peace B Spencer, rest in peace
|
| Shit could be worse so I’m feeling like Weezy
|
| I wake up in the morning, take a piss, and wash my hands
|
| Take a knee and thank the Man and leave my life in God’s hands, yea! |