lirik lagu two-tone – speak
[vince staples]
been on track, i was trained by the martyrs
we ran from them cases, the cops should applaud us
if god is my father then where was the condom
“astaghfirullah” when i pull out the chopper
father did a bid for k!lling innocent kids
now his kids not innocent, penitentiary eminent
sp-wn of ignorance, they sold crack at my christening
raised in the shacks, here’s a map, come and visit
f-ck that teenage hypebeast crowd, this here some n-gga sh-t
spit them bedish of bars, the cars out in the yard
used for trafficking africans to the motherland
son of sambo, sold glow flow flammable heaters
at the crib, twenty deep, watching hannibal lecter
i lecture n-ggas, you eye witness
confess to n-ggas, on that daivion davis
if we ever see that n-gga bet we k!ll him, quick fast
eagles give him whiplash, reggie white, n-gga say goodnight
i talk sh-t cause i paid the price and i’ll take your life
wanna test your luck, roll the dice and get little diced
(from the movie)
[speak]
came from the land of the black bar mitzvahs
ss thunderbolt six foot hitlers
rims on the truck truck spin like a dreidel
love for the fast life attraction fatal
grave to the cradle then i run up in your crib
fifty racks up front or your kids won’t live
pressure point panic mode well something gotta give
i leave my mark like the needle on the dope fiends limbs
powder blue timbs powdered toast man muddy mud skipper
with a jug of dirty brown liquor
got the b-tches lit like a godd-mn manora
then i put the beard-face to her l-b– majora
scream from the pleasure girl cry from the pain
all i wanted was respect and my godd-mn chain
all i got were the labels trying to send me -ssignment
ghost writing gigs trying to keep me up in silence
i’m from the west coast b-tch we invented violence
don’t believe me check the tape on the ’92 riots
i never met a bridge that i didn’t want to burn
never met a dollar bill that i didn’t want to earn
k!ll them put them in the urn, send them to my undertaker
bored with this life and i hope to meet my maker
i’ll look him in the eye and i tell him thanks for nothin
self-made twenty somthin i deserve to be stuntin
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