answers - iomos marad lyrics
iomos marad ft. quan (of the mad prophets) * “answers”
[emcee(s): quan (of the mad prophets) and iomos marad]
[producer(s): wes pendleton]
[verse 1: quan (of the mad prophets)]
education, degrees, more diplomas
but we still act ig’nant like we must be on something
we got power, black mayors, black presidents
we still mimic the oppressor caught up in embezzlements
it’s evident that (“you ain’t got the answers!”)
the world’s promises left us empty with our hands up
it’s the change*up since we got our change up
forgotten the struggle, now this new world’s changed us
now we atheists, cut*and*pasting the
lifеstyle of the famous as if it pertains to us
that’s cеrtainly not the answer, but
when tragedy is brandished, we’re like, “lord, please handle this”
with *n*lysis, we know what the answer is
like ancestors knew the lord through the tragicness
so we know we need to quit
trying to replace the lord with band*aids and bandages
‘cause…
[hook: iomos marad and (sample)]
(“you ain’t got the answers!”) yo
we need to calm down (“you ain’t got the answers!”)
we’re too emotional (“you ain’t got the answers!”)
we talk and don’t listen (“you ain’t got the answers!”)
acting all irrational (“you ain’t got the answers!”)
we wise in our own eyes (“you ain’t got the answers!”)
plus we going the wrong way (“you ain’t got the answers!”)
and we not god, so (“you ain’t got the answers!”)
[verse 2: iomos marad]
listen
we lost the vision and purpose for why we doing this
it’s not for fame or the wealth, it’s just the opposite
instead of thinking communal, we’re thinking corporate
the money*making machine is coming in between
cain and abels enabling confrontation
with the sight to see wasteful ambition, but
i tell you what though: (“you ain’t been doing the education!”)
(“you trying to give me advice!”) nah, i just think twice
‘cause every move made comes at a higher price
just like that label on your shirt (“it ain’t no ralph though!”)
thinking you move the fattest, but you really move it slow
we at the same pace when the race is eternal
man (“we all slaves!”)
and the age of ego*tripping got us in a daze
we’d rather blaze up to escape the maze and say
“f god, man. let’s give man the praise,” and
still (“you ain’t got the answers!”)
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