Scattered People Baby J (DJ) (Ft. dead prez & Shabazz the Disciple)
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "Scattered People" от Baby J (DJ) (Ft. dead prez & Shabazz the Disciple). Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.
[Intro – M-1]
Yeah. London, Belgium, [Zahir?], Haiti, Jamaica. DR, PR. Even if fucking Babylon scattered
[Verse 1 – M-1]
Yo, I promote this, sat back and wrote this
Rhyme about the hopeless, add it to ya quote list
Don't miss the African rise, before your eyes
It won't be televised
And if it is, they prolly telling lies, to hold us back
It don't take a nation of millions, it take crack
And black folks selling the black
That's the game all over the world
We the same all over the world
We the same muthafuckas
[Verse 2 – Shabazz the Disciple]
Aiyo, I cultivate the soil of the mind like a farmer
I make it evident—heaven's a slave man's karma
The charmer of the serpent, the bomber of the merchant
Who will once exile savages in caves lurking
A black house divided, won't stand religion's mental prison
Life is mathematics, devils conquer with division
The black man's the numerator, black woman denominator
Once they been divided, the black child is the reminder
[Chorus – stic.man]
Who said street niggas ain't got no class?
This whole society divided by class
The rich cracker is the ruling class
The rich niggas is the middle class
And you and I make up the working class
Every man fall somewhere within his own certain class
And from the way things is looking, dun, we certain to clash
Scattered people, we all the same
Yeah. London, Belgium, [Zahir?], Haiti, Jamaica. DR, PR. Even if fucking Babylon scattered
[Verse 1 – M-1]
Yo, I promote this, sat back and wrote this
Rhyme about the hopeless, add it to ya quote list
Don't miss the African rise, before your eyes
It won't be televised
And if it is, they prolly telling lies, to hold us back
It don't take a nation of millions, it take crack
And black folks selling the black
That's the game all over the world
We the same all over the world
We the same muthafuckas
[Verse 2 – Shabazz the Disciple]
Aiyo, I cultivate the soil of the mind like a farmer
I make it evident—heaven's a slave man's karma
The charmer of the serpent, the bomber of the merchant
Who will once exile savages in caves lurking
A black house divided, won't stand religion's mental prison
Life is mathematics, devils conquer with division
The black man's the numerator, black woman denominator
Once they been divided, the black child is the reminder
[Chorus – stic.man]
Who said street niggas ain't got no class?
This whole society divided by class
The rich cracker is the ruling class
The rich niggas is the middle class
And you and I make up the working class
Every man fall somewhere within his own certain class
And from the way things is looking, dun, we certain to clash
Scattered people, we all the same
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