Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bread And Butter, artist - The Roots.
Date of issue: 31.12.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Bread And Butter |
Yeah, through the sirens, the lights is blinding |
Battle cries sound off, warriors dying |
Last call at the bar for snakes and tyrants |
Hands up, that’s a massacre the cops kept firing |
Run amok, keep y’all eternally crying |
Fed up, place red stains on global giants |
The brain of an Orson Welles |
Stuck in a masterpiece, Citizen Kane’s personal hell |
It’s done, and it’s hot where them hustlers dwell |
And the air bears the stench of a corpse’s smell |
Homie down on his luck one foot in the jail |
And he down to his last with a quarter to sell |
This right here, world premiere of the last days |
The final paragraphs to the book’s last page |
You could feel it coming, no running away |
Let’s get free or let’s get paid |
Same shit different day |
The cornerstone to where I lay |
It’s shattered glass and crack bags where they play |
And scattered ass is passed in ridiculous ways |
These cats Chef like they Isaac Hayes |
Parallel to the grave |
Stuck in the game with no rules |
And we screaming for some water and some edible food |
Man I’m right there, rabbit ears, nothing to lose |
This is what you ain’t learning in school |
I’m trying to tell you it’s hard |
A loaf of bread, milk and eggs, stick of butter man |
Somebody’s mother lies dead in the gutter |
Sheriff down by them heads, talking that Gullah |
Tell the kids don’t look under those covers, man |
Check it out |
A child is born, his mother is gone |
He in the middle of it literally, tussling strong |
For his life, the tide high in the eye of the storm |
A mannish boy arrive and the riot is on |
With no spare time to try to respond |
Or prepare times, it’s hard not becoming a headline |
Or praying in the night when it’s bedtime |
Or laying your head down |
Cuz you already know what it is now |
You know a lot of leaders ain’t honest |
And they can’t keep a promise |
And I hate to speak about it but it’s all freakanomics |
Cramped and proud of it, you amped and you rowdy |
Treading water trying to lift up your head without drowning |
This type of shit can make your heart stop pounding |
But you pushing for the top, too scared to stop |
Now it gets deep, bodies are floating around in the streets |
Lot of people who won’t even be around in a week |
Man, get the operation gone, what y’all waiting on? |
We been patient, y’all mo’fuckas taking long |
The television getting all the information wrong |
Doing how they do it getting they mis-education on |
They already late |
Somebody been was 'posed to regulate |
Instead of wait before they let the levee break |
You try running from the truth but it’s giving chase |
I got to ask myself, yo, is any nigga safe? |