ฟังเพลงLetter To The King (Explicit Album Version)

Letter To The King - 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

Sometimes I wanna give up

Or at least take a break

That's when I close my eyes

And see Coretta Scott's face

Sometimes I wanna give up

Or at least take a break

That's when I close my eyes

And see Coretta Scott's face

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

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 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