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4:14
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Lyrics
America
God bless you if it's good to you
America, please take my hand
Can you help me underst—
New Kung Fu Kenny!
Throw a steak off the ark to a pool full of sharks
He'll take it
Leave him in the wilderness with a sworn nemesis
He'll make it (He'll make it)
Take the gratitude from him, I bet he'll show you somethin'
Woah (Woah)
I chip a nigga lil' bit of nothin'
I chip a nigga lil' bit of nothin'
I chip a nigga lil' bit of nothin'
I chip a nigga, then throw the blower in his lap
Walk myself to the court like, "Bitch, I did that!," X-rated
Johnny don't wanna go to school no mo', no mo'
Johnny said books ain't cool no mo' (No mo')
Johnny wanna be a rapper like his big cousin
Johnny caught a body yesterday out hustlin'
God bless America, you know we all love him
Yesterday, I got a call, like, from my dawg, like 101
Said they killed his only son because of insufficient funds
He was sobbin', he was mobbin', way belligerent and drunk
Talkin' out his head, philosophin' on what the Lord had done
He said: "K-Dot, can you pray for me? It been a fucked up day for me
I know that you anointed, show me how to overcome."
He was lookin' for some closure, hopin' I could bring him closer
To the spiritual, my spirit do know better, but I told him
"I can't sugarcoat the answer for you, this is how I feel:
If somebody kill my son, that mean somebody gettin' killed."
Tell me what you do for love, loyalty, and passion of
All the memories collected, moments you could never touch
I wait in front a nigga's spot and watch him hit his block
I catch a nigga leavin' service if that's all I got
I chip a nigga, then throw the blower in his lap
Walk myself to the court like, "Bitch, I did that!"
Ain't no Black Power when your baby killed by a coward
I can't even keep the peace, don't you fuck with one of ours
It be murder in the street, it be bodies in the hour
Ghetto bird be on the street, paramedics on the dial
Let somebody touch my momma, touch my sister, touch my woman
Touch my daddy, touch my niece, touch my nephew, touch my brother
You should chip a nigga, then throw the blower in his lap
Matter fact, I'm 'bout to speak at this convention, call you back—
Alright, kids, we're gon' talk about gun control
(Pray for me) Damn
It's not a place
This country is to be a sound
Of drum and bass
You close your eyes to look around
Hail Mary, Jesus and Joseph
The great American flag is wrapped and dragged with explosives
Compulsive disorder, sons and daughters
Barricaded blocks and borders—look what you taught us
It's murder on my street, your street, back streets, Wall Street
Corporate offices, banks, employees, and bosses with
Homicidal thoughts; Donald Trump's in office
We lost Barack and promised to never doubt him again
But is America honest, or do we bask in sin?
Pass the gin, I mix it with American blood
Then bash him in, you Crippin' or you married to Blood?
I'll ask again—oops, accident
It's nasty when you set us up then roll the dice, then bet us up
You overnight the big rifles, then tell Fox to be scared of us
Gang members or terrorists, et cetera, et cetera
America's reflections of me, that's what a mirror does
It's not a place
This country is to be a sound
Of drum and bass
You close your eyes to look ar—