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letra de the resistance (remix) - cameron uzoka

[verse 1: cameron uzoka]
forever young i was never subject to age
but yesterday was my master and the present became my slave
eighteenth century americans calling me from a cave
and the only t-tle i gained was the page
no extremes
i’m neither gangster or k!ller
philosopher or grammy winner, ho
but baby i’ve done dirt
worked and went church but my soul yearned for the white
and i learnt through experience living is not life and i
had to wrap crack with a cyphe
ironic how i was blinded by the light
lucifer was never my type
burn the attire you came in
dosen’t it burn when your subst-tute for a makeshift
so i made shifts, i sold to a fiend
and as i fulfilled his dreams, his teens were becoming lean
so no food in the fridge cause’ daddy was smoking something
a monologue from a kid living in london allow me to speak

[verse 2: cameron uzoka]
glamour, glamour, heir to an heir
highlights glimmer standing tall is her fear
never stumbles, humble reflection of her make up
fear does the work but reality never makes up
pursues a career in modelling
but her modal oparandi is hustling
oooh she has nice thighs
good with paper millionaires singing white lies
purity is saying bye bye
she confines in a rapper
but all his poppadoms is what she finds in his wrapper
abused by the trust the l-st the sinful thinking
his brain wants brain what is he thinking
a living corpse aching for human touch
preferably a female or a male to touch
he was a dealer with a wretched demeanor
but fame caught him by his nuts and his nuts are now making him nuts now that’s nuts dawg

[verse 1: cameron uzoka]
i remember a christmas in the millennia
a christmas of no presents and no gifts
living in a temporary house smelling like old crisps
my mummy set traps to k!ll a mouse my daddy laughed at his spouse
while i laid upon the couch they were counting money for rent
as i resented their financial status
this is poverty’s playlist
i adored those who were aimless
out till’ its dark parties of celibate ravers at ten
i couldn’t separate between gangster, banker a foe or a friend
in my house sharing is the vogue a fashionable trend
fatigue on my daddy’s face as he laid on the bed
why you ask holler at z, murder murder
howling through my vicinity
as mothers shed more water than baptism in ministries
this happened when i was making a plan
now satan wants the contents laid in my hands
for real

- cameron uzoka

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