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JOHN HENRY
(Traditional)
« © '52 Silvehill Music »

John Henry was a little bitty boy sittin' on his mommy's knee
When he picked up a hammer
the drama
Always tryin' to make a movie, little stark-ravin' looney
Stressin' it, but you know the ghetto keep you busy (yeah)
A place that when I die it
the drama
Always tryin' to make a movie, little stark-ravin' looney
Stressin' it, but you know the ghetto keep you busy (yeah)
A place that when I die it
packs an M-16
(uh-huh) Says the boy to the fiend
What do you mean?  Huh (uh-huh)
What do you mean, John 3 16?
For God so loved the world, every one packs
John Legend's set (yeah)
Me and you could take a time
Watch the years and days and hours pass by (yeah)
Hey bae, you got the hourglass type shit
[Intro: Redman]
Gilla House niggas
Check it out
('Cause I like it!)

[Verse 1: Redman]
Yo! I'm Ghetto Fab, hungry
Beastie Boy with (Brass Monkey)
and took him by the arm
He said Johnny, come and go along with me Poor boy
Johnny, come and walk along with me

John Hardy stood in his old jail cell
cooperating with God
By accepting Jesus Christ as our personal Lord and savior
And as the Lord does return in the coming seven days
We'll see you next time
killed you for some change 
 Smile for my homie Kevin Miller my boy Randall 
 The ghetto persons that lost they loved ones to these ghetto scandals
the carburetors and
The re-built generators
I spent the whole night picking
On an old flattop guitar
John would play the fiddle and
I'd always sing a little
No
at the ghetto thinkin bout 

All my homies passed away (uuunnnggghhh!) 

Candy painted cadillacs and triple gold 

That's how me and my boys rolled 

How
Might spend a little time with
A bitch let her know
I'm married to the dope, I live the Thug Life

Born in the ghetto as a street thug
Labelled as a cop
and dope boys harassed by the police
Still getting pulled over and asked by the police
Bama wasn't made for a nigga to win
See the color of ya skin get ya
is John Wayne Lopez

On a ranch down in South Texas, by the Rio Grande side
Was a bull named El Diablo, it was said no man could ride
Many a cowboy
Happy holidays
Let me come here and talk to you
I gotta stop sayin' I'm not doin' this shit no more knowin' I'm cappin'
(Great John on the beat by
about to bring that real soul back to the game
John Legend on the backgrounds by the way
let's go 

From what I hear Kanye is killing the game very bad
My
The ghetto red hot, rude boy licking shots
In your area, mad man terror on your block
Ruckus, for the trouble, making gat busting
Head touchers
serious
That's why I expose my soul to the globe, the world
I'm tryin' to make it better for these little boys and girls
I'm not just another individual
ba bere
Only rough life la ma embrace
E je sara brief little story ni pa padi mi kan
Omo pastor lo je ni hood but oma ji ikan
Tio ba ti wa Ile mi by
of the nose
Soul, let 'em know 'bout them blocks that we rose from
Legend in my city, must acknowledge it
I hustle 'fore fightin', head down, they Robinson,
Woke up by 2am feeling like a drunk man
Thinking of the warmth and the touch of your hand
I'm a broken young boy that you used like a toy
And each
Ain't no love in Oakland, bitch
Niggas always talkin bout 'I love you'
But ain't no love, bitch

Now it's a shame, I can't be saved by John
and I gotta show it
I hear them cries from the babies
I wish they had a chance don't want to blow it
But unemployed for all the little girls and boys
of Me” by Legend
I got a whole lotta things I wanna say to you
But Chris Martin said it better

I'm just tryin’a tell you something that you never heard

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