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letra de the next chapter - rodney p

[verse 1]
i sing songs to my son like, “f-ck the police”
same time i’m tryin’ to tell him, ”enough’s as good as a feast
let money be the least of your worries, just try to earn
try to don’t go jail stuck beggin’ man for burn”
i know, i just came home from out the pen’
i swear down i won’t be goin’ there again
but that’s a maybe
i’m on the right track but most man slide back
or get side-tracked because the lifestyle’s crazy
the weekend’s comin’ and we’re wavy
and all the youths know now is, “f-ck you, pay me”
we can’t blame them ’cause that we teach the babies
and greed has been good from since the ’80s
gecko
riddimk!lla does it for the art
decor
test me, though, will let the ting bark
hear the echo
ra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta
start poppin’ it off
the game’s done now, we’re lockin’ it off
next chapter

[verse 2]
man, they say they’re gonna get rich or die tryin’
but they’re lyin’
’cause they’re lazy and they’re gonna die broke
’cause they don’t grind
and don’t read, they just believe in youtube
how’s your seed supposed to believe in you, dude?
when you’ve forgotten that they put us on the bottom where it’s rotten
and the little that we’ve got is just a crumb still
them man there jiggabooin’, n-ggas act dumb still
but f-ck what them n-ggas doin’, i’ll be with the black folks
strategizin’ on mobilisin’ the black vote
or barbequin’ and teachin’ my son to backstroke
so when you’re g-ssed and you’re bruk, i’m like a slag with her f-nny sewn shut
“i couldn’t give a f-ck”
i don’t rhyme for the sake of riddlin’
them p-ss-piddlin’ rapper boy, dem they need kickin’ in
so disinfect the mic they’re spittin’ in and give them a little ritalin
and tell them boys there, “calm the f-ck down”
next chapter

[verse 3]
i don’t just rhyme with no reason
i’m livin’ in the now, but know that now is just a season
tryna milk the cow because the pickney need feedin’
but won’t spoil the child, if he’s wild, i’ma beat him
yeah, i play to win, i’m a compet-tor
tell me yute to let the spirit in and let it better ya
better that you don’t pick up the ting and turn a predator
but real talk, i got the devil in me like america
’cause i know what the dream is, i’ve seen it
try to rob the lot like jimmy hoffa did the teamsters
don’t take a g*nius to know these times
that you get nothin’ for nothin’ and everyone’s gotta grind, yeah
it’s the b-ss and the truth
i’m replacin’ the loose lips of youth with the burden of proof
so we’re burnin’ what them batty washers bring to the booth
we bun that ’cause them batty washers lie to the yutes
for real

- rodney p

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