The Roots - Lost Desire - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

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Tekst piosenki
[Hook: ?uestlove] x2 It's the love, in your heart Or the pain, in your mind No one cares, what the truth is Cause 'em fortunes, they don't lie [Malik B.] Ok, uh-huh, ok, yo I'm exhausted, but I never ever forfeit Y'all just bullshit while I knock a nigga off quick Y'all start speaking in tongues and start reaching for guns A militant will put this heat in your lungs The street and the slums, the weekend is done The local class always show you what heat is become The seasons are done, and reasons are none People dyin' bullets flyin' cause they squeezin' for fun It's all of a nightmare, that's right there They hopin' that somebody in the hood just might care With all this protestin' and rallyin', death toll tallyin' Foul smells around them, pails in the alley an' Corner filled with teddy bears, cause they killed a child again They sing about murder, so it ain't a song it's hollerin' Get off the choir with your soft attire Niggas out here don't give a fuck, cause they Lost Desire [Hook] x2 [Talib Kweli] Yeah My city's full of, heartbreakers and stargazers Who puff garsh Vegas So they "Gone With The Wind", like Clark Gable Breathin' like Darth Vader, believin' in dark angel Yeah, we got flags, but they not star-spangled We not patriotic, the heroes are not them Ghetto grills like rims, you stop, they still spin Tall tales at the bar, witnessed after dark And we still stop in and chicken and (?) Timbs And listen to Rakim With the way that y'all been For realla, I hadn't been schemin' to ply in You fear us? Fear is self, personified Payin' homage to homicide Prayin' to the dollar sign It's Idle/Idol Worship, the rebel forces Bodies lie at the foundation of the fortress This is war, we expect some losses And we comin' for the heads of the bosses [Hook] x2 [Black Thought] Yo We on some casualties of war shit What you stand for, kid? We in the city where they definitely lost it You open your eye-lids and get capped in the ribs Your funeral they have your 12th grade portrait Pretty corpse in casket, bell-shaped orchids Said he 19 and left a self-made fortune And left three orphans Now he in a box with the same chain and watch That never came off him It's a shame what it cost him Where he come from it ain't nothin' It's a everyday thing, that's a problem It's chambers revolvin' Bustin' like Russian roulette With a full set, they change what the odds is Flames in the mosque, and people held hostage Everyday I struggle, try to get up out the mosh-pit Homicide for profit, tell me how we not sick? This shit is out of control, they can't stop it [Hook] x1 It's the love... (*echoes*)
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