Another Brother Die

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M7

2:43

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Yeah
You got us livin' like what
A.L.
Divine RBG
I can't take it no more man
Somethin' gotta give
They got my hands high
Stuck all up in the sky
Prayin' to God right now
That the bullets don't fly
Another father, another mother is
Gonna suffer and cry
I can't see another brother die
They got me livin' like a fugitive
Hand on the crucifix
Prayin' to God
They don't inject me with computer chips
They want the facts
Everything, all my whereabouts
I stay strapped with the mack
Ready to air 'em out
I'm for the protest
Cops got me so stressed
Sick to my stomach
System so grotesque
You get stampede
For some damn weed
They got my face in the ground
And I can't breathe
Can't blame them all
For one bad apple out the bunch
But why were you crossing
When you know my fam is out to lunch
They 7:30 and you know that the clocks broke
Now ask the government who's supplying the block work
They turn a block into a pharmacy the got percs
The got X, heron, coke, they got certs
Open shop for these kids that make their Glock squirt
And media foul, makin' money on who murked
They got my hands high
Stuck all up in the sky
Prayin' to God right now
That the bullets don't fly
Another father, another mother is
Gonna suffer and cry
I can't see another brother die
They got my hands high
Stuck all up in the sky
Prayin' to God right now
That the bullets don't fly
Another father, another mother is
Gonna suffer and cry
I can't see another brother die
Yeah, many have died
Many have tried
We live in terrible times
A heavenly mind
Wouldn't survive
They want me dead or alive
They murdering people
Police, the pigs been murdering people
And gettin' away
The hood should have their own veteran's day
So many we lost
Hip-Hop is dead, the melody is off
They crown me with thorns
And sit, and pray, and make the sign of the cross
The day I was born
The king of kings paved the way to perform
The shit I be on
Makes police want to wave their batons
They want me locked in state greens
With straight fiends
Locked in a box for eight weeks
With baked beans
Laughin' at ops
Like homie you only eighteen
Got the world thinkin' you out here doing a great thing
The wars on the black and brown
Lives they takin'
And all them innocent people
They mistaken to be
They hatin' on me
And it's blatant to see
Thats why the hood hate the police like
They got my hands high
Stuck all up in the sky
Prayin' to God right now
That the bullets don't fly
Another father, another mother is
Gonna suffer and cry
I can't see another brother die
They got my hands high
Stuck all up in the sky
Prayin' to God right now
That the bullets don't fly
Another father, another mother is
Gonna suffer and cry
I can't see another brother die

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