Another Brother Die

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