Preme - Willie Revisited lyrics

"[1] They want what's similar to what's been on the radio Say it's no big deal, but if I'm for real, it is, but pay me no Credit, cash, debit, slash, let it pa**, with no a**ist No resistance, know a listener can tell the difference I really wish I gave a f** about what other people do I really don't, but want you to feel like I wrote this song for you But it was writer's block that prompted it, and me, who wanted it My promise is my narcissistic nature won't be charmed by which- Ever one's opinionated statements about how I made it I'm elated if you hate it. I'm complacent if you love it I put myself way above it—see it like an ant farm Can't harm what you can't touch. And I'll give it up Before I let it be perverted, you heard it from me directly It's silly if I ask you to, but I don't respect me Let me make myself real clear here—you n***as coonin' and buffoonin' And doing more damage to you than who you Think is your enemy. Foolish, to think that men'll see you And then emulate your example. You see it clear like a sample The opportunity's ample, so you don't put up a fight Just sell what's already there, ‘cause it's your copy to write Rite of pa**age is the ma**ive misinformation you faced and made believe You understood—that was the ace up your sleeve So you sat down at the table to play. They made it look fun You thought you had the high card, they told you you were the one And you were Sometimes you play a game and win, but despite Your winning at it, somehow you find something missing life Like for me? I'll take the L before I take a few dollars If I gotta endorse a product that I know to be harmful Where's the honor in a n***a being a n***a for sell? May as well put on your heavy chain and work in the fields How do you make a slave stay a slave? Tell him he can make a slave And make some money while he's at. It's simple and tragic [2] If Willie Lynch was just a myth but his invention still persisted Would it matter if we saw ourselves as chattel and we battled one another? I was raised to hate my brother, so I hate him And I hate the woman who created him. And maybe from A certain angle, if you strain to see the truth, then you could see That what it really is I'm dealing with has more to do with me But I'm afraid of truth, and hate that you remind me who I am And that's related to the way I grew up trying to understand How I could make it through this place and do what I was meant to, and Face the fact that I was snatched from home and brought to tend the land ‘Cause that's the complicated kind of truth America the Beautiful Would hate to help me deal with, plus I feel it's kind of mutually Beneficial if I'm k**in' n***as and she want ‘em dead As much as she wants me to go away. A bounty's on my head So they can ask for gun control and more restrictions They can't satiate the hunger that she has for hanging n***as I'm a proxy and a peon; a patsy taking orders; Apache scout attacking scalps and trying to save my borders; A hoarder on a hunt for blood, I'm crippled by the thirst So I'm riffin' over turf and b**hes b**hin' it gets worse Because my women wanna curse a cursed n***a. I am first A man who ain't a man, but kind of mannish so it hurts To think about it, be surrounded by it, even be convicted; To see it and believe it, talk about it and bear witness f** til d**h do us part, wellness or in sickness I wanna see your thickness—twerk something—be my mistress Be my b**h. I'll treat you like the b**h you is, and we'll be living Then we can have some children…and you could raise them brilliant… Or you could raise them feeling how I feel about us all… The strangest kind of fruit to ever fall… You could raise them how I feel about us all… The strangest kind of fruit to ever fall."