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Lawd, help me out now |
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We gotta get together |
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We gotta organize |
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No matter the weather |
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It's a black sunday, hey.. |
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[pharoahe monch] |
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I used to watch my grandmother catch the holy ghost in church |
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For her soul she would search |
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Five years later now i'm off to work |
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In a department store, i'm foldin pants and shirts-ah |
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At the end of the week-ah, lawd |
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Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet |
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That's when i made a promise to my momma i said |
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"i betcha you see me at the apollo one day and i'ma.. |
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Be kickin that fat funk shit; |
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Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit" |
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Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me |
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To miss classes and i feel he spoke to me |
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To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya? |
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At this point in my life is where i chose to write rhymes.. |
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.. instead of doing crimes |
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Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine |
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Organized konfusion, did not, get, signed |
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But we will soon one day, until then |
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I return at twelve at noon on the track, black sunday |
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Chorus: |
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Lawd, help me out-ah |
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We gotta get together |
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We gotta organize |
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No matter the weather |
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It's a black sunday |
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[prince poetry] |
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Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over |
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Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda |
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We came a long way and i'm still runnin for my freedom |
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Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the |
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Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby |
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I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady |
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I year later i made demo cassettes with the monch |
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And ?tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so i |
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Encouraged monch to start writing rhymes |
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And mrs. j cooked dinner then we came into same hard times |
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Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate |
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Two apes escaped, back to l.a. with our demo tape |
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The state of mind i was in since paul sea died is that |
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I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so i'm |
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All-in, gotta make papes and all that |
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Close my own record deal cause i can't fall for that |
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Old snake shit, hissin in the grass |
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For the cash, little cents, intuition listen |
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If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin |
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Dang... i don't even understand |
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Chorus: |
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Lord, help me out now |
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We gotta get together |
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We gotta organize |
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No matter the weather |
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It's a black sunday |
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Outro: |
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Check it out |
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Like to say whassup to my whole herd |
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Like to say rest in peace to my man ?dilu? |
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And rest in peace to my man juice |
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Three strikes |
