Muffled sound of fist on flesh Blows to chest No breath Air gasps You ain't nothing but white trash, bitch! With each hit, each kick, each...broken rib Crack, Crack! Bones are crying Mommy's crying and bleeding And pleading And then... Daddy wants to fuck Dick hard, swelled with power rush And as if all that wasn't enough Mommy's seven months heavy with birth As...Daddy grunts and cursed drunk nothings in her bloodied ear
(singing softly) First...lullaby First...Son...will...ever...hear And never forget
Mommy almost bled to death when she have him...finally She'd already lost...three Uterus-bruised, shredded, and weak From being daily beat And Friday nights were the worse and... Daddy never came with flowers Instead he spent hours at some corner spot With some bar pop named Cookie Putting his thing down Soiling Mommy's sheets with... Sweet...talk shit Cookie's cheap lipstick Hair grease, sperm, and jezebel juice
To hell with the good news that... He was a father for the first time His thirst for wine and women Clouded his vision... No warm welcome for mother and son Just... The rank smell of ass-crack, funk, and cum But Mommy's prayerful strength-her best defense She...burned the dirty linens Made a fresh bed Laid sleeping First Son down And never made a sound As she purged her scourge With birth-blood and quiet tears Watching as her fears and love and sacrifice Lie there in his soft skin and new life Breathing, dreaming, fresh from God's eye Mommy's little survivor Like...her
Mommy called crazy and scorned 'Cuz she two more born One boy soon after The girl much later and... Although they were both sung the same lullabies of hate Her...First Son, the first one Whose...womb-world was profaned Came of age playing street games With Stewie, Rezzie, and Little Brother 'Till his heart start to wither In pain and shame Blamed Mom for the wrong she let Daddy do to her And him... Let...sins of the Father cause his Innocence to wander Found honor amongst thieves Chose to squander his dreams Stopped believing in himself Become prodigal with his life Make impossible shit right with... Gang-ties, crime, lies Erase wise, woeful words of Mother Replaced them with absurdities of others Who had also lost their way
Played a different kind of street game now First Son plunged deep Speak street-family vows Espouse no causes but his own See, he couldn't protect Mommy's neck from Daddy's grasp Or...protect Mommy's ass from Daddy's wrath Couldn't shield her ears from... Daddy's foul-mouthed, liquor-breath jeers His only defense-served be confidence Brown bottles housed his swift descent Phones called cops on block frequent for his shenanigans Now...Daddy and him twins in addiction Driven to false-hearted heavens and friends By liquefied demons Had become what he despised from Conception 'til End Destined for a demise Survived nine lives of staying high Conning, jewelry-pawning, arrests, theft Womanizing...only for money, never for sex Bullet in chest, baseball bat to the head Left for dead So, eyes wide and glassy Speech...slowed and slurred Lips twitched with caked-up codeine candy And mouth corners one December 24th Mr. Hide and False Friend Took final ride to suburban supplier Shots were fired by the gray man With shaky hand But not shaky enough to miss... Hit...Lost Boy in back So-called Friend runs for door Leaves First Son blood-born Lying alone in blood on cold floor
Death was the cause of... Returning to Innocence Lost...
Baby 'Sis awake for dawn on Christmas morn To Mommy's sobs and shakes Daddy's silhouettes of regret All past, omitted, and absolved by lost As they clung to each other Knowing...
[Chorus: sung 2X] I don't care, as long as the bassline's pumpin The drumline bangin away Make one move and I'll blow you away One false move and I'll blow you away
[Black Thought] Yo - I don't really know but somebody said that the O.G. flow, it could fuck witcha head And the po-lice know that the green black and red too strong to con-trol, they study what I said Dig it - my name is 'Riq, and when I'm on the mic I'm known to spit somethin that these MC's hate I couldn't care less what you feel what you say Cause I gotta put it to you in my own special way - I'm a MONSTER! You know I'm certified sick I came from the corner where nobody got shit Took the cards I was dealt, turned it into hot spit Now I'm not only a passenger, I'm in the cockpit Been a long time comin, I was caught in the scramble of cats, tryin to do the same thing that they man do Eagles born to fly, real is made to ramble "A Dangerous Mind," I'm a prime example
[Chorus]
[Black Thought] Superfans wanna run up on me sparkin the ground up You need to fall back, could be NARC's around us You in a hot area for marchin powder If you holdin chowder, just walk without it Them real crook brothers don't talk about it They never make a move 'til they thought shit out kid I knew a lot of men who did bids for mayhem They made a lot of money, they money never made them The game of survival is filled with rivals Knives and fo'-five slugs flyin in spirals The wicked is diseased and it ain't all viral Could be greed and gluttony bubblin inside you Dawg, follow your pride, the rhythm'll guide you Yo, follow them guys, them niggaz'll rob you And have you up in somethin that dont' really involve you But you don't give a fuck you wanna pump the volume, I know
[Chorus]
[Black Thought] Yo, aiyyo the waistline thumpin, the face kinda jumpin the game Lookin sweeter than a bassline bumpin Don't come 'round me sparks and waste time frontin Them trick ass marks'll get the eight-five dumpin It ain't really bout nothin - Philly just love cuttin They shut shit down before the law start shuttin Get your route right cousin - be out nightclubbin relaxed And wanna get lights out tonight brother, perhaps It's the percussion that keeps shit, kinetic For some it ain't as fame, more sweet the street credit Some cats that play dirty didn't live, to regret it But move to the music he can live through the record I'm a Philly boss player, a dope rhyme sayer It's Black Ink back gettin cake by the layer by the stack, comin at us, get your weight right yeah If not, you makin a mistake right there, f'real
Yeah it would be cool it could be too Stop Running round in circles off of what we fuel Living a lie eventually believing it's true A lot of people here for us one could be you It's outrageous and they just ain't nothing But save us an ocean of brown fists in various flavors A favor for a favor man, this is the majors Tell me what you would do with no phone or pagers No Kinko's, no Fed Ex and no ATM's What you gone do when the poliece state vegin Well it already began but I guess it depends on what's really going on what's happening, huh Military target practicing They finna write another patriot act again The days is short the nights is long The fight goes on The pistol and the pipes are drawn
Hook: The middle of the night We fight like barbarians In sight of the former might You might think that it's a waste Of our time And I think you would be right Till he drop that rhyme (Repeat)
And some might say that it's a waste of time Cause ain't no amount of dancing finna break the bondage We go to war and transcend space and time When every record ain't a record just to shake behinds You know the stakes is high we in the face of drama That's why we can't shake it or escape the problem Its like a game of roulette the barrel revolving They only wanna see us occupying a coffin Mothers crying too often from they lost child leaving From trying to get over, get under, get even Get inside getting, getting dumped, getting greedy We got to get it right It ain't about to be easy You better pull you goggles up, it's about to get greasy Believe it's on as long as we can still speak freely Pages of my life would make it hard to read me I know my people hearing me, holler it you hear me
