Rest In Peace Lamont Coleman...
It's NoDot-mothaf**in-Won. I got something to tell you: they ain't gon' let us in. But something's gon give, period
[Verse 1]
Ay
In the drought they liquidate you, the flood they come to drink
Public fees for a government funded for company
Puppeting, believe that they money coming with strings
Nothing's for free in a country constructed in slavery
But I ain't slaving for benjamins, Benjamin slave for me
Tell money to make me money, forever enchained to me
You hecklers hemming the hustle but never getting the green
While I'm waving from Monticello you bottom dwellers in need
Of bacon and mozzarella, the darkest hell is in greed
One eighth of this Donatello got my propellers at speed
To race away from my demons like Icarus split from Crete
But innocence is ignorance; its sin or sink in the sea
You didn't think it of me like He didn't think it of she
Why you guard the garden of plenty? They Eden so I don't eat?
Hell nah, if he sinning then send him a hell yeah
Ain't a need for no cell cause he fell into hell here
(hook)
Yeah, it ain't no road from this
He alone in the coldest sh** where the hopeless live
This ain't a song for the soloist
But that's all that she wrote for this, something's gon' give
Yeah, something's gon' give
Yeah I said something's gon' give, something's gon' give
Yeah, cause I'm gon' live
Yeah I said something's gon' give, cause I'm gon' live
[Verse 2]
Ay
So what you telling me now?
Don't give a sh** cause you ain't telling me how and that's the truth
Matter fact that's the proof, cause I bet how's prolly what it
Is that you isn't telling me now, is that the truth?
Sabotage by saboteurs camouflaging as cavalry
In reality carnivores tryna gnaw on my calories
But they can't k** no matador grabbing bullsh** by the horns
In a city bullets galore where they sending bull to the morgue
Like BOW, in Oakland California like whaa
These n***as ain't sh** in my Town, I put that on
God, and I ain't got sh** but my mind
But swear I got visions o' mine, a n***a ain't
Lying but gaming's well-acquainted to crowds of rappers
Engaged with the loudest rappers, a stranger to calefactors
Who blaze in a cold world filled with sadists and malefactors
Who take from your tank to stay in the race 'til they outta gas cause...
(hook)
Yeah, it's East Oakland in this mothaf**a