Gods'Illa - Glaciers lyrics

Joe D He told me try something very different... So I wrestled wit'em like Barry Windham Wrestling wit god is odd... And to you fake Santa Clause ni**az Merry Christmas I'm gifted like 3 kings on the visit So I feel dope like the green in the swisher To the east blackwards in Caprice Cla**ics Police package hi beam on the window We bring you greetings from the nation's cap... Where they tryna bring the Caucasians back The old neighborhood is fade to black Locks on the doors, wood on the windows Gate around the building can't hang around chillin' They meddlin', the devil is ill but God's Illa... Truth Blaze 1 for all the seeds that go to rest starvin'.. Mod 1, stomach aching and they heads throbbin' Get no rest at all, gotta play grown man in this land of course What about those who ain't never heard the voice of good reason? Who gon go and reach them? Somebody righteous teach them The j**els is not privy to most, we hold a great toast To the deaf and the dumb, the blind 7-1 Powerful If you dont stand for something, you fall for anything And I stand for my people that red, black and green African liberation flag, Marcus Garvey had A trendsetter like the Panther party in the past If you followin' fads, Im glad If it wasn't for ya'll I wouldn't be god Represent that 5 point star, its 5 letters in Allah Arm, Leg, Leg, Arm, Head..stand for god Like the 5 M's... Mathematics, Mohammed, Marcus, Malcolm and Martin... When I spark the revolution we startin' Like Huey Newton, show and provin'.. You dont need a gun to start shootin' Verbal shots will stop you from movin' Ace Pushing thru days be... Like a young mother pushing a baby The thing thats so crazy alot of yall relating My brothers graduating, higher education Minimal celebration...eviction what we facing The struggle is faceless and nameless, the game gets Cold like Glaciers, south of the equator Like people of Grenada, we slaving for paper Just enough to get you to next day bruh... And to supplement the dividends thats barely coming in We pitching for consignment and get to the grinding For the times when... My old Divine was on the streets selling sh** so we could eat I put my heart and soul on every beat See the streets be easy to access just like freaks With no guidance, we aimlessly angry and so violent But so silent, when its really something to fight for Really something to write for, exposing no balance We utilize our talent, like a messenger or griot Developing a relevant view for our people Without that, the elders will never regain the youth back Young as hell wit 2 straps, ready to get them shoes back