I Rather Be Wrong 歌词
| 歌曲 | I Rather Be Wrong |
| 歌手 | MF Grimm |
| 专辑 | American Hunger |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Carey | |
| Few bullets hit the floor while flying through the air | |
| Billie Jean light up concrete, some die there | |
| Military weapons against stones, not fair | |
| Gun shots in the streets, whole block scared | |
| Niggaz tell you they love you right before they shoot you | |
| Hug your momma, cry at your funeral | |
| It's terrible, sinful, life here is pitiful | |
| God has a dark sense of humor, divine comedy | |
| Jokes on you, punch line is tragedy | |
| It's not what he say, it's how he deliver it | |
| Louis Armstrong gas me, said it was wonderful | |
| Bush lit the match, show souls are flammable | |
| Push me, don't, I'm close to the edge | |
| War, I keep falling but I'm laying on floor | |
| So deep, drowning but I'm not in water | |
| In Hell, inferno, inhale, breathe fire | |
| In Heaven, internally, exhale, leaven Lucifer | |
| Fail my objective, can never be president | |
| Although I have all the criminal qualifications | |
| So now I guess I'm just like Colin Powell | |
| Lack of real power and blood on the conscience | |
| Some Caucasians see black as being contagious | |
| Their children love us and now act the strangest | |
| Wish they could go back to days when they hang us | |
| Man them days they hung us is still among us | |
| We got fake revolutionaries trying to mislead us | |
| Won't bust they guns, in the head they just beat us | |
| Fight they own kind instead of ones who mistreat us | |
| Mechanicals for revolution Che Guevara never got 'em | |
| He couldn't be bought by the demons who shot him | |
| So don't give me that power to the people shit | |
| Unless you about the shit, too many niggaz died for it | |
| Old timers known how to spot who's legit | |
| Real bankers are pros and know who's counterfeit | |
| Do or live free lunch, that's who I roll with | |
| We out here exposing hoes and foes the way we should | |
| Living good, not giving back to the hood | |
| Shit changed, the Klan's black wearing hoods | |
| Prove me wrong, I wish brothers would | |
| In this song, cause I rather be wrong | |
| [Scratched chorus] | |
| Situation is life or death | |
| [Verse 2] | |
| I learned the worse devil in the world's a black one | |
| They'll speak your language, talking slang son | |
| If detected, here's come another one | |
| Where these niggaz coming from? | |
| Bred with self hatred | |
| Eating master's scraps, feeling that they made it | |
| Black churches and buses fire bombed and raided | |
| Program American Hunger, so they ate it | |
| Cook grams iron chef, ghetto gourmet | |
| Slow jams, while get high forget problems | |
| No man's an island, but each one's a monster | |
| Shit ain't never gonna change, we can't solve them | |
| How can a nation build when they don't love each other? | |
| No promise land, only misery prolong | |
| But in this song I rather be wrong | |
| [Scratched chorus] | |
| [Verse 3] | |
| Armstrong Williams endorsed Bush to kill millions | |
| Your skin is black, but for you I have no feelings | |
| Your fouls are flagrant, you secret agent | |
| I speak for a tribe still alive but lost | |
| Your ancestors will haunt you 'til you see the light | |
| Condoleezza Rice, how you sleep at night? | |
| I guess the devil tucked you in real tight | |
| Take a look in a mirror bitch you are not white | |
| What do they have on you? | |
| Something ain't right | |
| The vow taken by the president at the inauguration | |
| Never let this become a nigga nation | |
| But they're like roaches, plan B space station | |
| Just incase they get the heart, choose to fight | |
| And want a war, can't take it no more | |
| Make these niggaz literally reach for the stars | |
| Throwing rocks will never reach Mars, can't touch this | |
| Kill 'em off, see who survives the sequel | |
| It's un-American, niggaz will never be equal | |
| Fuck them jiggaboos, they not even people | |
| It's not a myth; they're only three-fifths | |
| Ay that nigga lover, what was on his mind? | |
| Probably had nigga in him, knew he was they kind | |
| Now a nigga for life, that's why pennies don't shine | |
| Show nonbelievers matter's controlled by the brain | |
| Grimm's David Blaine, for the world display pain | |
| All those multiple contusions and bruising illusions | |
| Magna Carta, OG Constitution | |
| Twelve fifteen, master plan for prostitution | |
| The king is a pimp wearing jewels to executions | |
| Father against son, that was the revolution | |
| We didn't matter, so please don't be flattered | |
| Africa was shattered, our blood was splattered | |
| I've died before so I don't fear | |
| Took two thousand years for a nigga to reappear | |
| Gotta kill me cause I'm powerful, I know the deal | |
| Memorize lines, go along with the script | |
| Will my execution make my people flip? | |
| Will disciples be trife and slip? | |
| Please come together all Bloods and Crips, make purple | |
| Save your people, they counting on you to kill yourselves | |
| It's time for us to make a change, I rather be wrong | |
| We now hanging ourselves | |
| There's no excuse no more, gotta come together | |
| Gotta get shit right, shit is too fucked up | |
| It's been fucked up for a long time man | |
| It's beyond color though, just need to get our heads together | |
| People don't realize what this world is for | |
| Shit ain't for us to fucking fight each other | |
| Motherfuckers think man, think | |
| Life is too short for this shit | |
| Running around in circles man, like rats in a maze |
| zuo qu : Carey | |
| Few bullets hit the floor while flying through the air | |
| Billie Jean light up concrete, some die there | |
| Military weapons against stones, not fair | |
| Gun shots in the streets, whole block scared | |
| Niggaz tell you they love you right before they shoot you | |
| Hug your momma, cry at your funeral | |
| It' s terrible, sinful, life here is pitiful | |
| God has a dark sense of humor, divine comedy | |
| Jokes on you, punch line is tragedy | |
| It' s not what he say, it' s how he deliver it | |
| Louis Armstrong gas me, said it was wonderful | |
| Bush lit the match, show souls are flammable | |
| Push me, don' t, I' m close to the edge | |
| War, I keep falling but I' m laying on floor | |
| So deep, drowning but I' m not in water | |
| In Hell, inferno, inhale, breathe fire | |
| In Heaven, internally, exhale, leaven Lucifer | |
| Fail my objective, can never be president | |
| Although I have all the criminal qualifications | |
| So now I guess I' m just like Colin Powell | |
| Lack of real power and blood on the conscience | |
| Some Caucasians see black as being contagious | |
| Their children love us and now act the strangest | |
| Wish they could go back to days when they hang us | |
| Man them days they hung us is still among us | |
| We got fake revolutionaries trying to mislead us | |
| Won' t bust they guns, in the head they just beat us | |
| Fight they own kind instead of ones who mistreat us | |
| Mechanicals for revolution Che Guevara never got ' em | |
| He couldn' t be bought by the demons who shot him | |
| So don' t give me that power to the people shit | |
| Unless you about the shit, too many niggaz died for it | |
| Old timers known how to spot who' s legit | |
| Real bankers are pros and know who' s counterfeit | |
| Do or live free lunch, that' s who I roll with | |
| We out here exposing hoes and foes the way we should | |
| Living good, not giving back to the hood | |
| Shit changed, the Klan' s black wearing hoods | |
| Prove me wrong, I wish brothers would | |
| In this song, cause I rather be wrong | |
| Scratched chorus | |
| Situation is life or death | |
| Verse 2 | |
| I learned the worse devil in the world' s a black one | |
| They' ll speak your language, talking slang son | |
| If detected, here' s come another one | |
| Where these niggaz coming from? | |
| Bred with self hatred | |
| Eating master' s scraps, feeling that they made it | |
| Black churches and buses fire bombed and raided | |
| Program American Hunger, so they ate it | |
| Cook grams iron chef, ghetto gourmet | |
| Slow jams, while get high forget problems | |
| No man' s an island, but each one' s a monster | |
| Shit ain' t never gonna change, we can' t solve them | |
| How can a nation build when they don' t love each other? | |
| No promise land, only misery prolong | |
| But in this song I rather be wrong | |
| Scratched chorus | |
| Verse 3 | |
| Armstrong Williams endorsed Bush to kill millions | |
| Your skin is black, but for you I have no feelings | |
| Your fouls are flagrant, you secret agent | |
| I speak for a tribe still alive but lost | |
| Your ancestors will haunt you ' til you see the light | |
| Condoleezza Rice, how you sleep at night? | |
| I guess the devil tucked you in real tight | |
| Take a look in a mirror bitch you are not white | |
| What do they have on you? | |
| Something ain' t right | |
| The vow taken by the president at the inauguration | |
| Never let this become a nigga nation | |
| But they' re like roaches, plan B space station | |
| Just incase they get the heart, choose to fight | |
| And want a war, can' t take it no more | |
| Make these niggaz literally reach for the stars | |
| Throwing rocks will never reach Mars, can' t touch this | |
| Kill ' em off, see who survives the sequel | |
| It' s unAmerican, niggaz will never be equal | |
| Fuck them jiggaboos, they not even people | |
| It' s not a myth they' re only threefifths | |
| Ay that nigga lover, what was on his mind? | |
| Probably had nigga in him, knew he was they kind | |
| Now a nigga for life, that' s why pennies don' t shine | |
| Show nonbelievers matter' s controlled by the brain | |
| Grimm' s David Blaine, for the world display pain | |
| All those multiple contusions and bruising illusions | |
| Magna Carta, OG Constitution | |
| Twelve fifteen, master plan for prostitution | |
| The king is a pimp wearing jewels to executions | |
| Father against son, that was the revolution | |
| We didn' t matter, so please don' t be flattered | |
| Africa was shattered, our blood was splattered | |
| I' ve died before so I don' t fear | |
| Took two thousand years for a nigga to reappear | |
| Gotta kill me cause I' m powerful, I know the deal | |
| Memorize lines, go along with the script | |
| Will my execution make my people flip? | |
| Will disciples be trife and slip? | |
| Please come together all Bloods and Crips, make purple | |
| Save your people, they counting on you to kill yourselves | |
| It' s time for us to make a change, I rather be wrong | |
| We now hanging ourselves | |
| There' s no excuse no more, gotta come together | |
| Gotta get shit right, shit is too fucked up | |
| It' s been fucked up for a long time man | |
| It' s beyond color though, just need to get our heads together | |
| People don' t realize what this world is for | |
| Shit ain' t for us to fucking fight each other | |
| Motherfuckers think man, think | |
| Life is too short for this shit | |
| Running around in circles man, like rats in a maze |
| zuò qǔ : Carey | |
| Few bullets hit the floor while flying through the air | |
| Billie Jean light up concrete, some die there | |
| Military weapons against stones, not fair | |
| Gun shots in the streets, whole block scared | |
| Niggaz tell you they love you right before they shoot you | |
| Hug your momma, cry at your funeral | |
| It' s terrible, sinful, life here is pitiful | |
| God has a dark sense of humor, divine comedy | |
| Jokes on you, punch line is tragedy | |
| It' s not what he say, it' s how he deliver it | |
| Louis Armstrong gas me, said it was wonderful | |
| Bush lit the match, show souls are flammable | |
| Push me, don' t, I' m close to the edge | |
| War, I keep falling but I' m laying on floor | |
| So deep, drowning but I' m not in water | |
| In Hell, inferno, inhale, breathe fire | |
| In Heaven, internally, exhale, leaven Lucifer | |
| Fail my objective, can never be president | |
| Although I have all the criminal qualifications | |
| So now I guess I' m just like Colin Powell | |
| Lack of real power and blood on the conscience | |
| Some Caucasians see black as being contagious | |
| Their children love us and now act the strangest | |
| Wish they could go back to days when they hang us | |
| Man them days they hung us is still among us | |
| We got fake revolutionaries trying to mislead us | |
| Won' t bust they guns, in the head they just beat us | |
| Fight they own kind instead of ones who mistreat us | |
| Mechanicals for revolution Che Guevara never got ' em | |
| He couldn' t be bought by the demons who shot him | |
| So don' t give me that power to the people shit | |
| Unless you about the shit, too many niggaz died for it | |
| Old timers known how to spot who' s legit | |
| Real bankers are pros and know who' s counterfeit | |
| Do or live free lunch, that' s who I roll with | |
| We out here exposing hoes and foes the way we should | |
| Living good, not giving back to the hood | |
| Shit changed, the Klan' s black wearing hoods | |
| Prove me wrong, I wish brothers would | |
| In this song, cause I rather be wrong | |
| Scratched chorus | |
| Situation is life or death | |
| Verse 2 | |
| I learned the worse devil in the world' s a black one | |
| They' ll speak your language, talking slang son | |
| If detected, here' s come another one | |
| Where these niggaz coming from? | |
| Bred with self hatred | |
| Eating master' s scraps, feeling that they made it | |
| Black churches and buses fire bombed and raided | |
| Program American Hunger, so they ate it | |
| Cook grams iron chef, ghetto gourmet | |
| Slow jams, while get high forget problems | |
| No man' s an island, but each one' s a monster | |
| Shit ain' t never gonna change, we can' t solve them | |
| How can a nation build when they don' t love each other? | |
| No promise land, only misery prolong | |
| But in this song I rather be wrong | |
| Scratched chorus | |
| Verse 3 | |
| Armstrong Williams endorsed Bush to kill millions | |
| Your skin is black, but for you I have no feelings | |
| Your fouls are flagrant, you secret agent | |
| I speak for a tribe still alive but lost | |
| Your ancestors will haunt you ' til you see the light | |
| Condoleezza Rice, how you sleep at night? | |
| I guess the devil tucked you in real tight | |
| Take a look in a mirror bitch you are not white | |
| What do they have on you? | |
| Something ain' t right | |
| The vow taken by the president at the inauguration | |
| Never let this become a nigga nation | |
| But they' re like roaches, plan B space station | |
| Just incase they get the heart, choose to fight | |
| And want a war, can' t take it no more | |
| Make these niggaz literally reach for the stars | |
| Throwing rocks will never reach Mars, can' t touch this | |
| Kill ' em off, see who survives the sequel | |
| It' s unAmerican, niggaz will never be equal | |
| Fuck them jiggaboos, they not even people | |
| It' s not a myth they' re only threefifths | |
| Ay that nigga lover, what was on his mind? | |
| Probably had nigga in him, knew he was they kind | |
| Now a nigga for life, that' s why pennies don' t shine | |
| Show nonbelievers matter' s controlled by the brain | |
| Grimm' s David Blaine, for the world display pain | |
| All those multiple contusions and bruising illusions | |
| Magna Carta, OG Constitution | |
| Twelve fifteen, master plan for prostitution | |
| The king is a pimp wearing jewels to executions | |
| Father against son, that was the revolution | |
| We didn' t matter, so please don' t be flattered | |
| Africa was shattered, our blood was splattered | |
| I' ve died before so I don' t fear | |
| Took two thousand years for a nigga to reappear | |
| Gotta kill me cause I' m powerful, I know the deal | |
| Memorize lines, go along with the script | |
| Will my execution make my people flip? | |
| Will disciples be trife and slip? | |
| Please come together all Bloods and Crips, make purple | |
| Save your people, they counting on you to kill yourselves | |
| It' s time for us to make a change, I rather be wrong | |
| We now hanging ourselves | |
| There' s no excuse no more, gotta come together | |
| Gotta get shit right, shit is too fucked up | |
| It' s been fucked up for a long time man | |
| It' s beyond color though, just need to get our heads together | |
| People don' t realize what this world is for | |
| Shit ain' t for us to fucking fight each other | |
| Motherfuckers think man, think | |
| Life is too short for this shit | |
| Running around in circles man, like rats in a maze |
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