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crimson – 88 bpm كلمات اغاني

[verse 1: crimson]

when the moon was high, traveled to rosewood/ saw me a burning cross, couple white ridden hoods/ couple of dead bodies burning on top of rugged wood/ many nooses swinging above me as eerie it stood/ i looked at the ground, saw me some golden ropes/ diamond flooded jesus, and the blood of sierra leone/ heard the cry of a slave, and the cry of a servant/ cry of a child rebel soldier, nursing jewel, like its urgent/ then an overseer grabbed me up, looking vexed, and said “this for your disrespect” felt a lash crashing against my chest/ one of them chains he was hiding behind his back/ in his back pocket a couple of pens and a record contract/ optical blank whites.. set of h-rns on his head/ skin was a faded yellow and hand co-rs- like a lead/ drove in an audi and said “this could’ve been yours”/ “instead you choosing to die” i said i’m choosing to open doors/ we the ones who do the best but die the most/ culture influence, quiet as kept man we the goat/ but they got us running from pigs and dodging a roast/ high tides on the coast, keep the onyx bods tied to a float/ then these n-ggas ask, josh why you so silent, chosen people, victim of violence, any thoughts on this nonsense/ see that’s yah biggest problem.. too many n-ggas who talk about it and don’t be about it, we still is routed/ subject-ivity lessen the sensitivity now it’s/ some broken bottles, bullets and burning houses.. bull sh-t/ across the thousands of acres that make.. this.. kind of pulpit/ for every side to decide to who is right or right.. or we pull it/ slow down.. catch accountability bro, or go down.. nose dive to the hide or rise to throw down/ yeah they put us in position, to keep all of us here, but listen.. we break it, been a long intermission/

[verse 2: crimson]

p-ssy calling so i call it back (word).. yeah.. i call it back/ knock a boot, then i’m out it dude, such a sneak attack/ funny n-ggas, supply the fade for the p-ssy fast/ watch him dash for the future, dead… while my diamond dance/ what a time it is, what a time it is/ running from something i.. wouldn’t touch, what a lie this is.. positive/ what inside of these walls got us feeling heavy withdrawals/..side this is, what a kind of a hurricon (hurricaine) of a mind this is/ been about my paper.. fighting for freedom.. we noticed now what a slave they made us/ been in chains see i been a mayne, who would cop a digit, then by the fall.. done forgot her name, tho the thought of our wild exchange, minimize the pain/ devil over my shoulder, dirtied my only wings/ for the l-st of madonna’s polishing finer things/ but a lot of us kids running as i, saw the blue move from a sky/ so we pray to many bottles of gin/ indigo almost went jail.. lucas on the low, even with music.. i tell him to repeat is to grow/ from the gravel but where did all of them seeds go?/ not enough to inspire two.. not to mention 4/ equalizer, we even higher, the shame.. imagine god in a range, he poppin shots up out of the door/ bullets falling, we call it blessings that feed the poor/ cure the sick, and console the lonely, holy rapport/ naked priests and some lil children bodied, in the churches lobby/ man go tell the my city, send em to crucify me/ call up aoc, brother danny, and elder nasi/ son allow me to murder, catch it on paparazzi/ real friends

- crimson

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