Pharoahe Monch
Pharoahe Monch - Black hand side songtekst
Je score:
Great Pharoahe Monch yo Yessir, what up P Great styles be the ghost CHORUS [PHONTE] Open the door let me in Teach us all, preach us in, turn the cheek, let it slide Give me five on the black hand slide VERSE 1 [STYLES P] Give me five on the black hand side Tell you what I see through the black mans eyes Look like shit in a cadillac a black man rise But every different day a different black man dies Shorty momma trippin' off a crack mans high Now he watchin tv lovin tha bad guy You know, pit bull watchin the welfair check You know he african, cause he aint gettin healthier yet Now he put down his knapsack, got a crack pack You don't know if it's there if your vision aint abstract We in the projects, a lot of us lab rats Voted for Obama, hoping he wouldn't have that Now I can tell you that I felt it I still remember how a cell smell Still remember how the pigs at Family crying up on the? I couldn't have that Open the door, and teach u all Pass the blunt around hope that it reach us all Now give me five on the black hand side Ghost of Pharoahe Monch watch the black man rise CHORUS [PHONTE] Open the door let me in Teach us all, preach us in, turn the cheek, let it slide Give me five on the black hand slide [PHAROAHE MONCH] Pharaohs and navajo chiefs, the way you makin' it rain / But? for a stripper with emotional pain/ You wouldn't despite system nourishment for the brain/ Cause brain, seed, plus soil equals food for the brain/ My hood talkin nigga keep it simple n plain/ To let me explain the game break it down n cutting the levels like tetris/ He shining his skill, a young blood for a necklace/ Leave slumped over the wheel of you're Lexus/ Smoke kush, wake up, and eat breakfast/ What tha fuck ya expect, a generation overly obsessed with mobsters/ I revolutionary swarm grammys and oscars, imposters/ Fake oras and weak shakas/ Makin a mockery of the music that B.I.G. Pop stars/ And they say I'm a saint/ Cause I see the remains of the whips-n-chains/ In my hood were it aint all good, / Peep the pain of a single mother she struggling/ Young child slang, give me five on the black hand slide/ Lets maintain like the soul train/ And keep it moving together, I'm sayin/ CHORUS [PHONTE] Open the door let me in Teach us all, preach us in, turn the cheek, let it slide Give me five on the black hand slide The black hand slide