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lirik lagu volume 1 – 1985 – g yamazawa

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(intro)
if i had a million in the bank
i’d try to save the day
900,000 for all sh*t i wanna change
and put the rest up in a safe
okay

(verse)
i wonder what i was like in my past life
maybe a tree that was beheaded then made into a stage
i wonder what religion got their facts right
could it be any peasant could be made into a sage
but today i got a visit that i’m willing to pay
i got some sh*t on my chest, and i’m feeling some way
i know y’all already know they made a k!lling cause of slaves
even to this day, they still make a k!lling off the pain
how dare y’all try to say i’m tryna profit off the game
whеn hip*hop is how i pray, i make an offering evеryday
so this is for the common folk, intellect and spirited
imagination’s powerful so i’ll provide some images
a mexican with colored hair, an asian with a perm
an african that can’t fit in, a white girl ain’t concerned
and facial recognition keep the loneliness at bay
for the rich homie who can’t look the homeless in the face
“that bull fire” that’s what they told me in the a
“homie h*lla fire” what they told me in the bay
you actin’ like you really got important sh*t to say
when you sorta kinda fake, there’s more important sh*t at stake (like what?)
we got a pale devil looking through the peephole
ghosts of drowned slaves choking up seafoam
and soccer moms with snoop dogg for their ringtone
kids getting fake smiles tatted to their cheekbones
a lil’ bass, a lil’ trebble
everyday, it’s a new special
richard spencer, a new level
aye, and he a blue devil
lies in the air, we let the truth settle
watch em’ fly through the air, the bullets full metal
and they do specialize for your ethnic kind
you better recognize the rights that they weaponize
but let me introduce you to a friend of mine
an immigrant homie who told me bout’ the enterprise
an old man, cambodian, [?]
strong features, like armenians during the genocide
my whole life i seen my older sister fetishized
my whole life i seen my ancestors generalized
into a punchline, so why y’all think i’m writing mine
i’m on them frontlines, i’m culturally out of bounds
you motherf*ckers are drawing on dotted lines and getting your phd
but no one taught me how to rhyme
no one taught me how to dap em’ up and look em’ in the eye
no one taught me to stack my bread and get my credit high
wasn’t born into no college fund, no money set aside
had to sleep with one eye open just to get that fetty wap
now i steady rock
wonder why i ain’t already pop
we can *n*lyze
get to the who, the when and the why
imma let it rock
do it until i get it right
word to the wise, word to the skies, i am fly
don’t talk to me
if you ain’t really bout this culture
don’t talk to me
if you just living on your socials
don’t talk to me
and if i’m sipping on the soju
don’t talk to me
don’t start with me
it’s the art in me, but i’m always looking for the symmetry
cause good vocabulary don’t mean that you got good energy
you can’t get with me spitting this sh*t wickedly
asians who love biggie is cultural relativity
i understand we all tryna fill the void
but just because we talk sh*t that don’t mean we got a voice
i dunno, what you think?
i need a drink

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