Brother Ali

Brother Ali - Little Rodney songtekst

Je score:

sura fatiha; islamic prayer*
translation:
Bismillahir Rahmanir Rahim
english:
In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful
translation:
'Al-Hamdu lillahi Rabbil-'Aalamin
english:
Praise be to Allah, Lord of the Worlds,
translation:
'Ar-Rahmaanir-Rahiim
english:
The Beneficent, the Merciful.
translation:
Maaliki Yawmid-Diin;
english:
Owner of the Day of Judgement.
translation:
'Iyyaaka na'-budu wa 'iyyaaka nasta-'iin.
english:
Thee (alone) we worship; Thee (alone) we ask for help.
translation:
'Ihdinas-Siraatal-Mustaqiim-
english: Show us the straight path,
translation:
Siraatal-laziina 'an-'amta 'alay him-
english:
The path of those whom Thou hast favoured;
translation:
Gayril-magzuubi 'alay him wa laz-zaaalliin.
english:
Not (the path) of those who earn Thine anger nor of those who go astray.
eh yo limb vak twisted broken mutilated carcass
living in a harness
guards all watch us towers with the tonnes of firearms and they hoist us
shoot to kills marksmen, keep
food make you nausious
yall gat your floors but they sleep us in sheet just to keep us exhausted
mixed in the monsters
divided and conquered
where the hard hearted and lawless are highly guarded
chance to touch knowledge
chance for em to torture
these bars are between you and your roots and your culture
eat sleep shit sweat hardiship
a godless society is garbage
twisted mission accomplished

bars and now sorrows are all that we armed with
heart disconnected punching walls with a raw fist, potent
between the villian hell and the coffin
do the death rattle in the metal maze you lost in
boxed in and dropped in a hole and forgetten
frozen till the core of your soul feel rotten
name is now numbers
just know your fellow convict love you brother ali
peace,
little rodney
hook
say if yall tryna talk bout the horrors you seen
tell your stories through me and feel free
if yall tryna talk bout the horroes you seen
tell your stories through me
trapped and locked in the belly of the beast
just like malcom, martin
solomon and jesus the last great prophets
may never give atleast a penny over
any beef got you stabbed in your sleep
plus you have to keep... look out for the captives they do it
they masters of deption and they tragic with they deeds
its madness that you speak of innocence and guilt
in a prison that was built just to generate some wealth
facilities, they building industries withing themselves, they out earn two thirds of anything they sell
they... in the 13th amendment give them hell
when they filling the demand of men and women in them cells
system stay in business cos the children that they fail
gettin ill when they drillin out a living for themselves
hopeless they send them in as their feeling prevails
they stealing killing slinging steady feeling up them jails
ha ha
Vind dit lied op:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Taal: Engels

Deel je mening

Dit formulier wordt beschermd door reCAPTCHA en de Google Privacy Policy en Servicevoorwaarden zijn daarbij van toepassing.

0 Reacties gevonden