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letra de after rain - gold'n buddha

[intro: gene]
i’ve seen the fire, i’ve seen the rain
i’ve seen the fire, i’ve seen the rain against my window
i can’t stand the rain

[verse: gene]
i keep a fist up for my folk and a finger for them coppers
selling dime rocks and letting off the yomper
on my p’s and q’s i’ll be d-mned if i get knocked off
if i blast my trey i’ll send a n-gga to the lord, the holy trinity
i’m picking off n-ggas that’s supposed to be k!lling me
i was never the envious type
but if you touch down in my city with some sh-t i might like
i’m yelling “sn-tchies!”, young n-gga child dressed in blackface
the definition of irony
why you trying me?
don’t know a god but i know to palm a pistol so i don’t need him
ain’t been to church in a year, who the f-ck am i greeting?
this forty ounce like a medium got me talking to dead n-ggas
i’d rather be malcolm than martin and that’s on any day
because i ain’t turning the other cheek
you push me, i’m letting in spray, banging a ‘k
that four-nickel sing in your mouth, its f-ck what you say
sorry ms. jackson i turned your seed into a stain
on the wall he remains, he should have gave up the chain
don’t ask me how it went just know i’ma get my chains
around here they wet backs and after the rain a dry n-gga i remain

[bridge: gene]
i know what’s so special about the .38
i know colt .45 gonna keep the [?]
i know baby’s face won’t make the daddy’s day
i know my grandma told me to always pray
but i’m just a hardheaded n-gga
i’m just a hardheaded n-gga
i’m just a hardheaded n-gga
i’m just a hardheaded n-gga

[verse: buddha]
i ain’t never been the hardest
my mother gave birth to brothers sacrificed to the gods so we could enter the struggle and i grew from it
a tree in the concrete, i root for it
show them logic, yo, pet-peeving these cruel summers
guns taking attendance leave them to drool dumber
momma’s banging the pipe, dreams of a fool plumber
kids parading these white streets under white sheets and yellow tape, they marked playgrounds
every kid fly with white chalk and sprayed ground
and it ain’t how they raise us as warriors in these barracks
only way out is basketball or this rapping, and it’s tragic
though illiterate, expression itself is really your strong suit
i’m picturing jazz, athletics and chess moves
but crackers only see us as hung n-ggas and “f-ck you!”
like the country wasn’t built by minds of unthoughtful
monkeys, slaves, coons, porch monkeys, they dog food
never try revolting, they’d get away with assault too
they don’t love us, they don’t care about my brothers chitter chatter
they drown us out with sirens when blacks matter
but its antique, only whites really matter so we just antsy
just a slave to the pavement, we own these d-mn streets
i dare a honky to test me i’ll let him hold three
his heart burst from his chest i hope the sh-t stops
and any death from here on is for my block

- goldn buddha

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