Food, Clothes & Shelter lyrics

by

​dead prez


[Intro: stic.man]
Yeah. For all my peoples that's hungry

[Hook: stic.man]
A n*gga need food: you got to have food for your health
And clothes: gear to keep esteem for yourself, son
Shelter: a place to lay for rest when you're stressed
Over life cause it's trife and ain't no God gonna help ya

[Verse 1: stic.man]
I feel the winter heart creeping
Vicious as the wind, which is life
When it's deep without a meaning. A trife scene it screams
n*ggas fiending—the pipe dream and some be seeming
Like the only way to keep breathing in the slums, but nothing comes
And keeping funds is like dreaming
My situation: no solution—even the young become demons
Where I'm from, sh*t is unyielding. Something like three-hundred
Million
Gun-wielding black rats trapped in one building
With low ceilings and no feelings
Cutthroat villains, dope dealings, and glossy-eyed pavilions
Sunken faces and powder traces
My people slave for the basics
The powerless devoured in the matrix
Of politics, pimps, and glass pipe
From gun blast and flicking off blunt ash, the cash heist
The fast life, where the have-nots rule
Stick and grab plots, toting tools, victim last by some jewels
'Round the world, we stay stuck in capsules, shackled
And crackas got homes like castles
I figure the only way this n*gga got to go is wild
Plotting licks for liberation, stocking cap style
[Hook: stic.man] (x2)

[Bridge: Malcolm X Sample]
He's just hungry for knowledge, that's all. Yeah, that brother's starving! So am l. Let's get something to eat

[Verse 2: M-1]
Yo, I was born in the storm, hearing gun clap for thunder
See my childhood peers catching years in the numbers
I wake up from hunger, try to lift my stress that I'm under
How I made it this far makes me wonder
You in a fight for ya life, for basic human rights
Can't afford the booming prices—it's economic crisis
Life is a sacrifice. I'm down to my last bag of rice
They forcing us to live like laboratory mice
Like f*cking laboratory mice—that's right
You wear the camouflage, but do you choose to live the soldier's life?
I said before, "This is a war, not a play fight"
Taught to be a slave from the womb to the gravesite
Some of us even share the views of the Canaanites
Tryna be white, but they gon' lose in this game of life
So dead that. I tie my dread back and scheme
Put a star on my red, black, and green

[Hook: stic.man] (x2)

[Bridge: Boyz N the Hood Sample] (x2)
Pay the bills, put food on the table, and put clothes on your back. You understand?
[Verse 3: stic.man]
What do power mean? Our team
Seem to think it means sour cream
Cause our dreams got us fiending for the power, son
And Huey P. said political power come from the barrel of the gun
What do power mean? I believe in thieving
And smoking weed—everything happen for a reason
I hope my seed grow up and get even. It's open season
And if you poor and black, you know the reason
Yeah

[Outro: stic.man and (M-1)]
Nah'mean? We out here fighting for the basics. (Tryna get all we can get). Tryna get food on the table, clothes on our back, pay these bills. Dead Presidents. That's the come-up for us. Food, clothes, and shelter. Ain't no need to even say nothing else. (Word up)

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