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letra de p.o.m (piece of mind) - raiza biza & remi

[verse 1: remi]
wow, wow, look at the town
look at all of the money gettin’ thrown around
look at all the obamas poppin’ out the ground
look at all the new cafes that wanna be down
juicy fried chicken next to biggie and pac
sp-ced out parks as they won’t know a thing about
look at all of the staff, not one of them ’round
look at ’em walk past a black man on the ground
but don’t worry, don’t worry
’cause he’s only about 65,000 years old, man, he’s been around
i mean, this is his land and we took him ’round
and then we told him, see the man for a job and his house
technicality, he’ll figure it out
i’m sure he’ll get over it in a minute
besides you’re busy tryna live inside the city of now
all that sh-t is history
check the science when we respect while i

[chorus]
and left her straight from the truth
(runnin’ for my leather
things that are so d-mn disgraced, baby)
and then bring back to the youth
(runnin’ for my leather, things that are so in your face, baby)
and left her straight from the truth
(runnin’ for my leather, things that are so in your face, baby)
and then bring back to the youth
(runnin’ for poor leather things)

[verse 2: raiza biza]
yeah, the chance scene starts takin’ a toll
i can barely recognise it when i’m takin’ a stroll
i swear i saw you centre when i came here before
now i see your wine store, same place as before
sports cars line the roads, no sp-ce for the poor
next to [?] try and knock down the place to record
do that, i guarantee we’ll be breakin’ the door
must have fell and bumped your head, we ain’t playin’ at all
you see, they underestimated
when people make -ssumptions like we under-educated
while marketin’ the culture for the sake of entertainment
unknowingly or knowingly rehashin’ segregation
with a lack of innovation, i’m like
wow, wow, look at the town
look at all of the money gettin’ thrown around
look at all of the people and the culture gettin’ thrown in a pile
and they surprised that we ain’t forcin’ a smile

[verse 3: remi]
now, give me my ounce
give me my ciggies and mix it all ’round
give me my phone, scroll it on down
until i’m dead to everything ’round me
that’s loud like black power
like smack addicts invading my house
’cause they don’t have what we had when
you have less in your account
but that makes me down
it’s easier to demonise, and they got the demon eyes
or just let police advise me
i know no one has been inside
and i’ve never been deprived of my human right by wildin’
but i work a 9-to-5, and i pay my tax on time
i just wanna get a nice sleep
i don’t care about your life, i don’t care about the trial
i just wanna get my piece of mind

- raiza biza remi

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