The Game
The Game - Letter To The King lyrics
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(feat. Nas) [The Game] Second floor of my hotel, I'm rollin' up bout to blaze And zone out, to this Frankie Beverly and Maze As I daze about the past, and them days in the past He set my mom free, so my mom free at last So much that I don't even drink from a fuckin' glass I'd rather find the first fountain I can and do it fast Didn't understand the dream of a King, do the math Coincidentally on your birthdays I ditched the class Cause the younger me, dumber me was chasin' the cash Chasin' the ass, lowlife with his face in the grass Ridin' home from school, in front of the bus Not even thinkin' bout how Rosa Parks done it for us How she stayed behind bars and she done it for us And she stayed behind bars 'til she won it for us Sometimes I wanna give up or at least take a break That's when I close my eyes and see Coretta Scott's face... Cause sometimes I wanna give up and at least take a break That's when I close my eyes and see Coretta Scott's face... [singing] [Nas] Standin' at the pew, panaramic view of the seating and greeting I've been meanin' to do me some letter reading to the King, he forever breathin', your message is never leavin' Some of your homies phonies, I should've said it when I see them Them sleazy bastards, some greedy pastors, jerks Should never be aloud at Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta So people be patient, I know this ghetto grammar But I'm a street dude, normally I just speak rude Martin Luther, the martyr, the trooper, hate killed him Nobel Peace Prize winner, they duplicate your feelin' As a kid I ain't relate really I would say your dream speech jokingly, 'til your world awoke in me First I thought you were passive, soft one who ass kissed I was young but honest, I was feelin' Muhammad I ain't even know the strength you had to have the march You was more than just talk, you the first real Braveheart, we miss you... Feel like King be in me sometimes [singing] [The Game] The word nigger, is nothin' like nigga Don't sound shit alike - like Game, like Jigga One came before the other, like aim and pull the trigga One is slang for my brother, one is hang and take a picture The rope ain't tight enough, he still alive, go fix it Pour some gasoline on him, call his daughters black bitches Make 'em pick cotton, while they mama cleanin' up the kitchen Same cotton in white T's, that's the cotton they was pickin' If Dr. King marched today would Bill Gates march? I know Obama would but would Hilary take part? Great minds think great thoughts The pictures I paint, make the Mona Lisa look like fake art I feel the pain of Nelson Mandela Cause when it rains it pours, I need Rihanna's "Umbrella" for Coretta Scott's tear drops, when she got the phone call that the future just took a fuckin' head shot... I wonder why Jesse Jackson ain't catch him before his body dropped Would he give me the answer? Probably not... [singing]