Cyne - 400 Years | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Cyne
• 400 Years

Pesni.guru - сайт для Гуру

Akin:
I'm passing Gods conception
Approaching near the land deception
Adjust the mirror
In my rearview I see reflection
At times my highways lead to bleak direction
So I seek confession speaking to beats
I call it resurrection cuz I got my soul back
Some call me pro black
Really I'm just playing my part I could've sold crack
It's not for me
My old man thought of prophecy
Kwame Nkrumah's vision live in my odyssey for real
But not ya Homer in Greek mythology
Akin devise schemes to conquer this trickology
The time is now to forsake the faking
I'm freedom in the making
God's kitchen chef rock a frigid apron

Cise Starr:
My pulse quickening
As my heart became a simile
I drift into the/ reaches of self
I felt panicky
Hoping for anarchy
Liberation from this insanity
Tears running down my cheek hit the canopy
Wall of self doubt
Shout scream and wail
At the pain coursing through
My being Iím in a hell of thought
Caught between a rock and hard place
My personal space violated catching a case
I can even taste the bittersweet smell of defeat
I'm feeling the heat of blood running down in the street
Then look where I stand
My shadow is the trace of a man
That endured the hardships
Formulating a plan

Chorus:
For 400 years we shed tears
And when it's death among peers we poor beers but for what
Look what the world made me
Enslaved me but at the end what the fuck is gonna save me

Akin:
System ridiculous they fabricate lies now I'm sick of this
Like people with syphilis
Still trying to cripple this will
Revolution rap attack Pope Nicholas
Chill don't ever tell me that
Lies they try to sell me that
I can't afford it
Your evolution get aborted
Let it be known
I don't condone thrones in Rome
Call it prejudice
I sever this mic with a poem
Folks will hate to see this and mercenaries out for Jesus
Live from the pearly white gates about to squeeze
Is godly bad?
Confederate flags I'm held hostage
No forty acres and mule abused profits
No forty acres and mule abused profits

Cise Starr:
I'm breaking these shackles
They got me chained away from my liberty
Look at the history
How they treated us through the centuries
Like inanimate animals
Only given annual holidays
To represent the hardships we endure today
That's not enough
What the fuck we getting comfortable now
Looking like clowns
While industry is taking our crowns
And tarnishing our soul
Trading our worth for platinum and gold
Our souls are undersold
For what
Semiprecious pieces of metal value changing with time
Open your eyes we need to rise
Open your eyes we need to rise
Open your eyes we need to rise