Buddah MAC
05-25-06, 05:25 PM
take it how you want...
bastard son of a gun, abortion looking enviable
hear my heartbeat quicken on each trigger pulled
always on some bull****, it's always on some bull****
ending teary-eyed with preacher on the pulpit
and we're left to defend a violent end
of shooter and victim both caught between pretend
and actuality, creating countless casualties
as most acting hard only up for grammies
can't damn them as I've seen every facet
of the diamonds in dream mirrors they took to that casket
and in that reflected goal of compressed coal
they saw an easy path & swaggered up their stroll
now harder than god's erection, don't need no protection
ice grill on auto-pilot so there's no risk of detection
of human behind that hard ****, meanwhile making them a target
for silent street runners who want a share of that market
as infamy always help the income incline
same reason the spitters in the mic booth with nines
sign of the times got me wanting to switch decades
same **** happened but seemed the shootings made
the news less than weekly, just sick of the sameness
when another day, another brother on your playlist
felt a bullet touch him or another crew member
seems peeps are human shields, I ain't pretend to
act like this **** ain't been going on for the longest
block cat knockin top cat to build his rep strongest
but this **** seeming more senseless, can't call it
but those shot-for-Jordans days lookin damn near nostalgic
cuz that was over something, no matter how messed up
these days words and beefs getting people dressed up
in Sunday best for going six feet under
another mother's son silenced, and I gotta wonder
as I bump what poliferates it, if I got a right to say ****
thing is, I don't buy the blame game, so that stray ****
about violent music influencing I always counter-attack
but the more rappers hit, more my arguments fall flat
in the faces of headlines of another emcee bleeding
so I'm torn myself, and find that I'm pleading
for midground in the message so this guntalk lessened
will maybe ease the tension and the next time two are stressin
fists form the compromise if they can't talk **** out
but I want anything than to see another cat led out
on a stretcher with a plastic bag zipped over their face
but I know too well that the state of this place
named America will carry ya to a bullet before breaking bread
and shores eroding off seas rising from tears shed
we got crime wedded to song, so why when death do us
are we shocked and acting like we ain't knew this
when we attended the ceremony, even gave our blessings
whole world giving blessings given who they invest in
but this family to us, and we scream they never knew us
when they point and blame, and, even the criticism truest
smacks of judgement, but they know not what they do
painting with the broadest brush will always blind you to
detail, and detailing the action happening
it ain't hard to see through the steady trapping
that violence breeds violence, and the risk of staying street
is the hungry mouth gonna look at your plates to eat
I need the guns gone so my sons see more suns dawn
I need the guns gone so my sons see more suns dawn
I need the guns gone so my sons see more suns dawn
and on and on, til the break....
bastard son of a gun, abortion looking enviable
hear my heartbeat quicken on each trigger pulled
always on some bull****, it's always on some bull****
ending teary-eyed with preacher on the pulpit
and we're left to defend a violent end
of shooter and victim both caught between pretend
and actuality, creating countless casualties
as most acting hard only up for grammies
can't damn them as I've seen every facet
of the diamonds in dream mirrors they took to that casket
and in that reflected goal of compressed coal
they saw an easy path & swaggered up their stroll
now harder than god's erection, don't need no protection
ice grill on auto-pilot so there's no risk of detection
of human behind that hard ****, meanwhile making them a target
for silent street runners who want a share of that market
as infamy always help the income incline
same reason the spitters in the mic booth with nines
sign of the times got me wanting to switch decades
same **** happened but seemed the shootings made
the news less than weekly, just sick of the sameness
when another day, another brother on your playlist
felt a bullet touch him or another crew member
seems peeps are human shields, I ain't pretend to
act like this **** ain't been going on for the longest
block cat knockin top cat to build his rep strongest
but this **** seeming more senseless, can't call it
but those shot-for-Jordans days lookin damn near nostalgic
cuz that was over something, no matter how messed up
these days words and beefs getting people dressed up
in Sunday best for going six feet under
another mother's son silenced, and I gotta wonder
as I bump what poliferates it, if I got a right to say ****
thing is, I don't buy the blame game, so that stray ****
about violent music influencing I always counter-attack
but the more rappers hit, more my arguments fall flat
in the faces of headlines of another emcee bleeding
so I'm torn myself, and find that I'm pleading
for midground in the message so this guntalk lessened
will maybe ease the tension and the next time two are stressin
fists form the compromise if they can't talk **** out
but I want anything than to see another cat led out
on a stretcher with a plastic bag zipped over their face
but I know too well that the state of this place
named America will carry ya to a bullet before breaking bread
and shores eroding off seas rising from tears shed
we got crime wedded to song, so why when death do us
are we shocked and acting like we ain't knew this
when we attended the ceremony, even gave our blessings
whole world giving blessings given who they invest in
but this family to us, and we scream they never knew us
when they point and blame, and, even the criticism truest
smacks of judgement, but they know not what they do
painting with the broadest brush will always blind you to
detail, and detailing the action happening
it ain't hard to see through the steady trapping
that violence breeds violence, and the risk of staying street
is the hungry mouth gonna look at your plates to eat
I need the guns gone so my sons see more suns dawn
I need the guns gone so my sons see more suns dawn
I need the guns gone so my sons see more suns dawn
and on and on, til the break....