Nick Grant
Bless the Child
[Verse 1]
Yeah, uh, Pacino movies, cue the scenes, they told me the world is ours
Admired mobsters 'til I learned they push crack in our projects
God's body, too much to dissect
Pray on you like these vulture women to NBA prospects
Too young to die
America eats its babies I'm just askin' can I borrow?
You feed a man but Indian who killed you all
Thanks for givin' us nothing
Vision crystal clear
Huey wicker chair
Smell the stench of fear
Hard to kill a king who's self-aware
Would you ride for me?
Would you die for me?
N***a please, you passed your loyalty around like project freaks
I'm Selassie in the Maserati
The ghost of Pac in the MGM lobby
The world is ours, who gon' stop us, huh?

[Bridge]
Uh, on the road to riches and diamond rings
I can hear these ghetto screams
If you ain't livin' like me, you don' know what that mean
I can hear these ghetto screams
You hear that pop, it's the big payback, better get back
N***a we strapped, n***a
You hear that pop, it's the big payback, better get back
N***a we strapped, n***a
[Verse 2]
Yeah, n***as fear my skin color, they wish I die in our rocks
Still we give 'em all the game and they publicizin' the plot
All these n***as killin' n***as, cops killin' n***as and we don't kill no cops
I'm confused, you on my side or not?
Fly ghetto star, with a ghetto broad
Plus the nine carry body like a pallbearer, uh
Momma told me never slide your two cent out the penny jar (Yeah)
Marry to this money, for the love I bet it all
Where I'm from we can't elope, these pigs'll tear your melon off
Where I'm from you either fear a con or you Farrakhan (Damn)
Trap jumpin' like a telethon
And they numbers like arguin' with your girl, they never wrong
Sing this song, uh
These youngin's holdin' pistols like stage fright, they nervous
But still flash it at your frame, 'cause shit ain't picture perfect, uh
The devil's smirkin', don't know who to trust
Quick to leave you in the vegetable state if they soup you up
Drive-by, seduce a slut
I like it real 'cause I'm a movie buff
Prefer to horror out, who is gruesome as us?
They prayed I never land mine, until I blew it up
They ain't expect us to make it, we got the shooter's touch
Since a youngin', dreamin' of cake, Beamers and estates
Now my shit bumpin' like a teen in the face
Had to learn you can't always adopt these n***as' issues
Apparently they both plottin' to twist you
My granny told me it's a cold world
Tryin' to rob the reaper either develop a jump shot or find a product cheaper
Know it's a stretch, but hope these words reach you
My thoughts are needles in the arms of tweakers
I can hear the ghetto screamin', n***a
[Outro: Louis Farrakhan]
We want justice under that flag or what the hell is the use of us paying allegiance to a flag under which we get no justice