Dear America 2015 lyrics

by

Uncle Murda


[Intro]
(Brothers and sisters) Another exclusive
(Brothers and sisters)
Big shot to my homie Locksmith, shout out to Termanology
(I don't know what this world is gonna do) [x2]
Kay Slay, Johnny King in the building
The Industry Purge
(I don't know what this world is gonna do) [x2]
Let's go (Brothers and sisters)
(I don't know what this world is gonna do) [x2]
It's that time (Brothers and sisters)
I do this for the street, f*ck the industry
(I don't know what this world is gonna do) [x4]

[Verse 1]
Yeah, they say we living post racial space, no trace of iniquity
A platform that is lack form, if you wish to be
You could pull yourself by your booth strap if you lose track
It's your own fault if you don't walk the strict of it
We go to the voting polls, pray to God and hope that those bureaucrats
That run this show don't kill us off and choke or souls
Second guess I don't suppose, try they lock and close they doors
Every time I look a body drop, I won't compose
I won't settle down, I want to look at myself
I won't accept your good deed when my freedom is on the Shelf
I won't play along and put on a mask cuz you asked
Tell me to look at head cuz you covering up the past
Till I pass you this antidote, regardless if you can and don't
I give you my plea, what I see you cannot revoke
You can't invoke hostility out depression
Wouldn't trade it for the world, such a beautiful blessing
[Chorus:]
Brothers and sisters), (Brothers and sisters)
(I don't know what this world is is gonna do) [x4]

[Verse 2]
Huh, truth spreading since day one
I bring a message, kind a blessings and my shining necklace
Dropped a lot of lessons, the goons hungry and you looking like a lot a breakfast
f*ck the partner, I'm try'n to bottom on my long investments
Had a ratings in 12 countries in one month
Hit up 20 stages, had my fans in the front drunk
I'm doing amazing, and no phasing me not once
Drop as many albums has Tupac and am not done
Running from the cop, drunk hot and my shotgun
My cousin get'n home and he ready to rock some
The kings and the 9, 7, 8 and he not one
How do you still live in the ghetto, cuz a pus*y, I'm not one
BET Cipher or French Montana, rep for my hood
Yeah, your boy did damage, last of the Boricuas
The shine on the cameras, pick the gang through my eyes
The rhymes on the canvas

[Chorus]
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