- 歌詞
- アルバムリスト
Funky DL
-
Judas
INTRO
Uh, uh, uh-huh,
uh, uh, yeah...
VERSE ONE
Eighteen wearing blue jeans, a snap-back mesh,
clean fade under the cap, his shoes box-fresh,
smoking on a blunt head, eyes red high as kite,
comes out mainly at night, sells green brown and white,
Police pull him over, try and test his composure,
it holds up like a dude that's older, a soldier,
he learned from them older dudes behind bars,
who flossed with fine cars, jewellery and bitches on their arm,
taking pictures like no harm would ever come to these Gods,
they see that people get caught, but think they can beat the odds,
they crazy, but back to Mr Man, palm tight-fisted hand,
in a stairwell for 15 seconds, Instagram,
snapped by them Undercovers? Tapped by them other Brothers?
Nah, he ain't on they radar, mind like a razor,
you can't feel his activity, he's screen saver,
his attitude is you are only what the streets make ya',
danger around every corner,
where the strangers call him on his cell phone,
talkin' bout they short a couple bucks, can I pay a little later?
Can I get it from my neighbour? Can I pay you with some labour?
Why won't you do me this favour? I am a loyal customer,
but they are only loyal to the drugs not the hustler,
defiant to his Moms and reliant on his charm,
so a giant stack of money's what he's holding in his palm,
one day he sat and listened to Minister Farrakhan,
from the Nation of Islam quoting from the Bible Psalms,
chapter eighty-two, verse six opened his eyes,
you are Gods; and all of you are children of the Most High.
he thought about it, but stuck with the same old,
just because he used to wear silver, but now his chain's gold,
and he chose to walk this road,
he's prepared to reap all the harvest from the seeds he sowed, word.
CHORUS
Yeah, uh, uh, uh, uh,
yeah, uh, uh, yeah, uh, uh...
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VERSE TWO
Couch-surfing in his Nike TN's,
watching James Bond classics, Bank Holiday Weekend,
he's waiting for the contraband re-up,
relies on his supplier to hire the clientele
and make the high higher,
no sign for him to retire, his bank balance on fire,
he's inspired by Avon Barksdale from The Wire,
a criminal, a crook, a felon, a law-breaker,
a get high maker, OD and a life taker,
it's time for the wake up call,
an opportunity presents itself to take up all of the community,
he gotta put his stake up tall, there's no impunity,
the big one and if he get caught, there's no immunity,
he steps back to think about it,
second thoughts and he's doubting
that he can get away without prison and overcrowding,
23-hour lock-down with a cell mate who got the runs,
pants drop-down,
peeling Oranges to hide a stench without a window,
inmates looking for ass, acting like flamingo's
waiting for some new meat so they can do they inside out thing,
they wolf whistle, blow kisses, voguing and pouting,
the guards acquiesce, dispensing with no less
than a punch in the chest in the shower when fully dressed,
this ain't the kinda future he looking for,
some changes will need to be implemented before it gets dangerous,
cos turning your life around from carrying a knife around,
selling dope and killing your people,
ain't nothing hype about kids born addicted
being weaned off from morphine,
little Brothers acting like the older ones at fourteen,
survival, they thinking they invincible like Michael,
but even Michael was a victim to the vicious cycle,
streets are bone idle, suicidal, homicidal,
when you play yourself like one of the disciples, Judas.
CHORUS
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