a letter to kanye omari west - chika lyrics
now, mr. west, take a seat, i implore ya
over time it seems it’s gotten harder to ignore ya
you undo the progresses of g*niuses before ya
king gave you the box and now we know you can afford her
it don’t matter how much money you got or you lack
when that check clear, don’t forget your children is still black
and your music has been wack
and your views are moving back
to the day that trigger n*ggas cause we still hear that whip crack
i’m compassionately passing on some knowledge, son
imma level with you ’cause we both dropped out of college, son
you been wilin’ than new yorkers since the patterson
you not a o.g., your repetoire, it do not matter, son
i gotta admit it, i’m annoyed, you came up on n*ggas’ coin
you thought you could fill a void, you a puppet
you looked at all your fans and you said “f*ck it, i’m on that”
that n*gga from graduation, i’m sorry y’all, he gone now
cole tried to warn us, trump wanna reform us
built him up from nothing and now this how he reward us
how you say you yeezus but did nothing to restore us
you support the people up in power that abort us
i don’t give a f*ck about your clothes or your wife’s new naked pose
or the fact that you can stand for what the people all oppose
it’s not a cross you had to take up
i just pray to god that one day you can wake up
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