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letra de believers - the reavers

the reavers (ft. spiga, goldenchild, and billy woods) ft. lam shist – “believers”
[emcee(s): spiga, lam shist, goldenchild, and billy woods]
[producer(s): bond (aka 007)]

[verse 1: spiga]
let’s wake ‘em up now. who’s sleeping to rise?
widen them eyes and realize the deal: starving individuals k!lled
but what’s real? maybe the truth outside the system
envisioned inside the word of the only one true and living: christ
we’re living life with instructions on how to use it. i
improve it by renewing my mind and put it to music
abuse it? never say never. even the clever have fallen
one nation under god, indivisible is the calling
in god we trust bust as justice went to emergency currently
the trust went from god to the currency
heard of me? doesn’t matter. heard of him becomes the issue
your props don’t mean a thing ‘cause you can’t take it with you
missed you at the reunion. you in trouble when he’s coming
like a thief in the night. peep the nation that be bubbling
wondering about the outcome. i doubt some will make it through
everyday is the last day for some—today, it may be you
i want to die in the arms of god—that’s why we get high
hold my mother’s hand all the way to the sky
no alibis and lies. no goodbyes and why?
i’d rather live but i want to die in the arms of god
peace

[verse 2: lam shist]
label me
official, nasty, yes. the -ss you kiss
may it be the last you diss, you p-ssive biss
i’ll blast my p-ss, a plastic b-tch through drasticness
everyday struggle activist who mastered this
form of flow with drug connects, thugs that
bugging, bro, with tecs to spread three ‘gets
on shorties’ necks. my lead injects fate and infects
the doves that vex me, especially disre-
-spect me. you best be blowing your own h-rn
like gillespie. wanting to test me is suicidal
homicidal, i’ll hold a t-tle in rivalry battling
overshattering, -ssault and battering, leaving you
scattered and multiple veterans are flatter than white lime
you write rhymes? well, good then. go write lines
if you bite lines, you’ll bite mine so i can get paid
broke, little n-gga living in shade on sundays
no fun days. where i’m from, stick ‘em in runways
here i come. look at the gun blaze. realize, son
who let his tongue run loosie? like
newports and wet coochie, [?]?

[verse 3: goldenchild]
yo, let’s drift in new york and ain’t a d-mn thing change
everybody’s on the grind, searching for loose change
and the blame to the game, the same corruption
same politics, but the man’s got a new name:
doomsberg. a billionaire queer has spoke
sticking d-ck to -ss, a m-ssive without c0ke
praying that we choke from dope and genocide
where crooked cops abuse laws just to hide
no drugs. locks people away for petty crime
so men got to do what they do to survive (n-gga)

[verse 4: billy woods]
god is dead. lift your wine. eyes on
the prize so long, we blind. true believers
got it in their veins. babylon use their brain
rain/reign like taliban crush idols
throw off the bible on the a-train, bubble letters
candy-cane bl–dy scepters. p-wns get jumped
like checkers—king ‘em. [?]
catching visions. bring ‘em to galilee
speaking tongues to my people in prison, i’m out here
but what man is truly free?
allah gave him the tip. jesus flipped
d.t.’s found judas in the whip, one bullet out
his clip. whitey’s on the moon and n-ggas is still
cleaning grip. paradise lost the buddha
paul thinking john is the shooter, blowing
the building, coming from first-born children
splash blood on the door. what do you believe, n-ggas?

- the reavers

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