private silence - moor mother lyrics
[moor mother and reef the lost cauze]
the impurities of they frequencies k!lled my grandmother these motherf*ckers they never love ya
they just want to f*ck ya and suck milk from ya titties like they ancestors
two evils, can’t take the lesser
go with me and second guess her
[moor mother]
i’m so glad
trouble don’t last [gone to waste?]
[?] forefather do
that’s the special
you squeeze the bezel
the metal take you to a higher level
to see jesus and the devil
the fire from the bevel shine bright like a diamond
[ornameanor?]
against the backdrops of sirens and mothers crying
daughters and sons had they hands up but now they dying
we still multiplyin’
yuh
i’m so glad
trouble don’t last [always?]
stuck in this bullsh*t called america (who!)
the system’s nuclear
the impurities of they frequencies k!lled my grandmother (who!)
these motherf*ckers they never love ya
they just wanna f*ck ya
and suck milk from ya titties like they ancestors
two evils can’t pick the lesser
go ahead second guess her
her name [?]
holy war
sn*tch the head off a quarter
throw the world out of order
the whole world outta order, yuh
you got that [whip uphill?]
you got that whip uphill
you got that whip uphill
black [tation?] shoot em up then k!ll
[reef the lost cauze]
shoot em, shoot em up, shoot em up
black steel, black steel shoot em up now
black steel in the hour [?]
this is the devil [?] seance
yea, yea, yea
k!ll em k!ll em k!ll em slow k!ll em
[?]
and you can’t murder me i just appear in your dreams
the haunting
being black in america’s daunting
but f*ck that noise
i mostly k!ll and destroy
i got a daughter and two little boys
do you know what that makes me
give a f*ck if you hate me
i [?] safety
you white pasty tasteless racist
i break ya f*ckin bones with ya, face it
and blood i wanna taste it
blood on my knife, mud on my symbol
and i sharpen it as i’m kicking you to
never do this sh*t again
i choose violence i choose [?] who what where the [white man?]
i don’t negotiate with terrorists
this is my island, i’m [wildin’?]
be more stylin’
why are cops profilin’
he talk back so they shot him
welcome to h*ll, yeah this is my asylum
real n*gga problems, n*ggas [thought they?] free
no olly olly oxen
[moor mother]
[nice sticks?] ice picks
knights on horseback
crackin whips i guess they think it brings back the magic
and you got that whip uphill
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