Son/War
[interlude]
What’s happnin witcha lil one
Listen up
Listen up
Lemme holler atcha lil one
Whoa
Phips
Yeah Yeah
Lemme holler atcha lil one
I see you tryina come hang
Do work and I pop you off some change
Do good and I’ll pop you off some game
Don’t run your mouth so much
A real big dog, he don’t bark
Hold your chin high when you walk
You speak loud and clear when you talk
Cuz that’s how you give off confidence
Shake my hand with a solid grip
And if you can’t
Look me in my eye when you talk
Then you prolly ain’t about shit
And if I’ma fuck witcha
Then I gotta have some respect for ya
It’s a lot that I’m gonna expect from ya
Especially when it come to the next subject
Like self control
You see, you can’t skeet in everything movin
Yes she got a big booty
But you gotta strap up if you do it
Cuz the last thing you wanna be outchere
Is a baby daddy with no paper daddy
Cuz she gon hit you with child support
And that’s a court date just wavin at ya
That’s why you gotta be yourself
And don’t be fittin in with no click
Yeah that might look fly today
But they ain’t hittin on shit
Might gotta walk alone
You just do what you sposed to do
Before you know it
It’ll be forward motion
And you’ll be amongst the chosen few
Now I’m talkin bout breadwinners
mountain movers
leaders of the black power movement
Control the schools and control the streets
And full control over our music
If that ain’t worth your hallelujahs
Man, more power to ya
Just make sure you holla the next time you ride through here
[interlude]
My grandmother told me that her great grandfather
Used to pray for freedom
And never got it
Until he started prayin with his legs
Then she told me that
If ya
Trust in God, but still tie up your horse
And if you turn your cheek, then you’ll die on the cross
Now what she gonna lie to me for
I am my ancestors’ wildest dream in they hearts
They envision my transition
Born leader so my people, I stand with them
I execute every strategy ever planned with them
Chin raised to the air, stay aware of my posture
So surrendering, retreating not an option
By any means, freedom is our doctrine
So if it’s freedom or death then keep it cocked then
Unload, reload, can’t keep me boxed in
Eat shit sleep, calisthenics and ammunition
I command respect off of sheer mannerism
Born in it, not sworn it, come on with it
Can’t walk half-hearted, gotta be all in it
Ten toes in the mud, out of love
Be suffocated by fear or covered in blood
Dyin on the front lines, tell my son who I was
A man dyin tryina be free
[interlude]