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letra de alpha & omega - music crave ent.

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[produced by. stigma beats]

[into: dejuan whaley]
music crave entertainment, revelations
the nation painted me as a thug
genetically predisposed to violence and selling drugs
so that’s what i created for the radio stations
through the music i was spreading hate but they still showed me love
revelations
just another imitation keeping the shallowness in rotation
b-tches, homicide, baking soda in the kitchen
we’re pawns manipulated into keeping ourselves in submission
in my heart i felt i was different
revelations
a realization that the media’s opinions doesn’t have dominion over my character
a declaration and dedication of making music with the sole purpose to inspire
get your souls rewired
what’s your revelation?

[verse 1: dejuan whaley]
another lost young tryna find a comp-ss
influenced by all the negativity in my circ-mference
terrified of judgment, adjust, became a puppet
pushing themes of ignorance through the speakers into the public
f-ck my teachers ain’t listening the preacher either
when the innocent treyvon was murdered tell me where was your jesus?
a youngin’s mental in a maze desperate for a leader
marijuana pearled within a rillo the sufficient healer
mama was panicking, son as dormant as manikins
sent to louisiana to break away from shenanigans
sunny side wasn’t up when my cerebellum was scrambling
recognized my hand was dealt, i had to perfect my gambling
life experience caused me to some make changes, personal growth
slowly my conscious was re-arranging, simple minded focused on the moment i was aimless
but today i’m a doctor and listeners are my patience
lilac in the pavement, blood in our neighborhood and my statements could be platelets
crooked in need of braces, the truth is hidden within the cracks like a facelift
ironically, all is i see faces that are racist
nothing’s been different since when pac wrote changes
i was born to bring hope to my generation, and this is my revelation

[verse 2: epik]
what’s the motive, bills and eviction notice
pots and pnas with some baking soda
feeling like i’m sammy sosa watching netflix smoking on the sofa
freeloader chainsmoker that’ll turn your girl into a supersoaker
life’s a gamble and we playing poker, higher than the solar
flow colder than the polar, as the days p-ssing
i’m only getting older, and my bars getting bolder
not afraid to get the chip up on my shoulder
i’m placing deliveries when i’m getting orders
f-ck the gov it’s a new world order
find me in the club with somebody’s daughter
i forgot her name so i don’t know what to call her
feeling like a baller
fresh shape-up because i’m fresh up out the barber
make these niggas sick you would thimk it was ebola
smoking so much loud i should be in coma
i’m the shit now do you smell my aroma?
because while your b-tch chasing, i’m in the booth expressing my revelation
it’s my destination and i been patient, but now i’m feeling like it’s my time to take it
so i’m through with waiting, so sit back embrace my greatness
started from the basement, the mainstream so basic
we chilling at the space station, putting rockets in rotation

[verse 3: yk]
i’m riding on a late night and i got my eight
my man a shark he got great white, i’m tryna get the cake right
black hoodie, black mics, black glock, red lights
spin his block, run them niggas over run the redlight
i’m dead-right you dead-wrong for tryna play me out like your favirote song
so i’m about to hit him like my favirote bong
all up in his -ss like my b-tches favirote thong
me and my man riding, finna smoke em’ we cheech & chong
smoking loud and popping perks it keep me on
f-ck boy just got merked, he was probably drawlin
in a alley sparking a dutch when them niggas saw him
it was windy he ain’t even hear them niggas walk up on him
turned around and it was (bang-bang-bang)
put him higher than the perks and the mary jane
mixed with the liquor, speaking a liquor nigga i’m a sipper
of henny, goose or juice, who the f-ck are you? i dont wanna argue
i’ll pull out my 5th like it’s my d-ck and i’ll put it in your mouth
need them for the low i’m about to go to the south
then i’m coming back with that work, bad b-tch, black purse
rental car no tint, strapped up you know this
i stay super lowkey, you probably didn’t notice
black hoodie, old timbs, had them since 2010
you want a war you got one, we rocking we rolling
my pockets stay swolling, my b-tches they roll up
if i go broke it’s a stick or a hold-up
hold-up, wait a minute, did i say i’m finished?
i just had to catch my breath now my lungs is replenished
i’m back in it, i’m back on it, treat the city like i own it
i do what the f-ck i like, i go where the f-ck i want
i be down south street, strapped up, blowing blunts
they don’t know our names them b-tches just know it’s us, and they love it

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