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Letter To The King

Letter To The King

Hits: 694K
Artist: The Game

Lyrics

[The Game] Second floor of my hotel I'm rollin' up bout' to blaze It's on now To this Frankie Beverly and Mase As our days about to pass And our days in the past He said my mind free So my mind free at last So much that I don't even drink from a glass I'd rather find the first fountain I can And do it fast Didn't understand the dream of a king I do the math Coincidentally on ya birthdays I ditched the Class Cause the younger me, dumber me Was chasin' the cash Chasin' the ass Lowlife with his face in the grass Ridin' home from school In front of the bus Not even thinkin' bout how Rosa Parks done it for us How she stayed behind bars And she done it for us And she stayed behind bars Till she won it for us [Repeat: x2] Sometimes I wanna give up Or at least take a break Thats when I close my eyes And see Coretta Scott's face [Nas] Word up Game, Standin at the Pu Panoramic view of the seating Greeting I've been meanin To do me some letter readin' To the king, he forever breathin' Your message is never leavin' Some of your homies, fonies I should said it when I seen em Some sleezy bastards Greedy pastors Should never be allowed to be In Ebenezer Baptist Church In Atlanta So people be patient I know there's ghetto grammar But I'm a street dude Normally I just speak rude Martin Luther The model of truth But hate killed em Nobel peace prize winner They duplicate the feelin' As a kid, I ain't relate really I sell your dream speak jokely Till your world awoken me First I thought you was passive Soft one to ass kiss I was young But honest, I was feelin' Muhammad I ain't even know the strip You had to have the march You were more than talk The first real Bravehart We miss you. [The Game] The word nigger Is nothin' like nigga Don't sound shit like Like game like Jigga One came before the other Like aim and pull the trigga Wanna slang for my brother Wanna hang and take his picture The rope ain't tight enough He still alive, go fix it Pour some gasoline on em Call his daughters Black Bitches Make em pick cotton While his momma cleanin' up the kitchen Same cotton in white tees That's the cotton they was pickin' If Dr. King marched today would Bill Gates march? I know Obama would But would Hillary take part? Great minds think great thoughts The pictures I paint Make the Mona Lisa look like fake art I feel the pain of Nelson Mandela Because when it rains, it pours I need Rhianna's umbrella For Coretta Scott's tear drops When she got the phone call that The future just took a fuckin' head shot I wonder why Jesse Jackson didn't catch em Before his body drop Would he give me the answer Probably not

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