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moosa - vic mensa lyrics

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[intro]
h*llo this is a free pay collect call from moosa
praise my lord (how it feel?)
praise my lord (how it feel?)
praise my lord (how it feel?)
praise my lord (how it feel?)
praise my lord (how it feel?)

[verse 1: vic mensa]
i was beggin’ god for a sign, shine a beacon of light
i know i ain’t livin’ right
every day is darkness, in this dusty apartment
half*emptied hennessy bottles and condoms on the carpet
half a bag of cocaine, on the counter by my smith and wesson
misdirected i gripped the weapon connect it to my temple
resentful to be so sinful, demons on my mental
dreamin’ of when things were simple
on snl with kanyе, poppin’ ace at the 40/40 next to bеyoncé
now i felt like mich*lle and kelly
as if my destiny wasn’t manifested for me
at the same time my dawg james, fightin’ an attempted
class x felony
rottin’ in cook county, where rapist facin’ forty years
he’d be lucky to get a twenty*piece
my conversations with him were therapy
imaginin’ how he could be so optimistic
prayin’ in front of a toilet with no pot to p*ss in
he told me, “stop and listen
allah gives me my freedom
if i keep him inside, these devils could never hold my mind in my prison
and you outside b*tchin’
you need to practice and some gratitude
take heed to the blessings that he granted you”
[bridge: wyatt waddell]
waitin’ by this phone (this phone)
better days are comin’, i know (comin’, i know)
you’ve been gone so long (so long)
but one day you’ll be home again (home again)
just waitin’ by that jail phone (by that jail phone)
better days are comin’, i know (comin’, i know)
you’ve been gone so long (you’ve been gone so long)
but one day you’ll be home again

[verse 2: vic mensa & king moosa]
before long i’m introduced on the phone to a brother named moosa
see moosa been in dixon prison since he was a junior
sentenced to twenty*five years at fourteen, as an adolescent shooter, uh
i knew him through my sister aja monet
she asked me if i can help to shed some light on his case
we hop on the h*rn, knowledge is born
rapping ’bout criminalization of the black boy
conversation moved forward, then james asked
“what’s the chance he’d be sent to dixon?”
he says, “slim to none, illinois got fifty prisons
i got a clemency petition, you could help me pitch it
hold on, let me call you back, the c.o’s b*tchin'” (oh, get the f*ck up)
as james’ trial date approached fruition
i’m goin’ through my own trials, caught a gun possession for the .40 cal
all this positive sh*t and really i’m hardly different
thinkin’ i might end up in a cell right by these n*ggas
my mind started flippin’ when i heard the judge’s decision
a decade and a half, they don’t want him home ’til 2035
that’s that sh*t’ll make you spazz
grab a c.o. and slit his throat with a broken glass
last but not least, in the feat of serendipity
this n*gga got sent to the same penitentiary
i kid you not, on the same cell block
so close to this n*gga moosa that they could share cot
james started goin’ to jumu’ah
he puttin’ me on the quran
i’m takin’ fruit from the faith of islam
meditatin’ on my burdens since i pray to allah
to keep my head high through the hoopla
he surrounded by the wolves and a pool of sharks
fightin’ over phone time (come on, man, motherf*ckas got kids too)
wrong place, wrong time
moosa got into an altercation, on some petty sh*t
wasn’t even really his beef, it was his celly’s sh*t
blood everywhere, t**th knocked out (goofy ass n*gga)
busted his mouth, somebody shout
next thing you know the c.o.’s is stomping ’em out (hey, break it off assh0l*s)
now it’s hope of freedom cast in the shadow of doubt
all the classes and the programs, dirty toilet, bowl hands
hopin’ it wasn’t all for nothin’
fast forward to our next discussion
he still stressin’ over the repercussions
he told me he came across an initiative
surroundin’ the covid concernin’ clemency prisoners
i doubted the significance, i mean sh*t, how could it be?
he ain’t supposed to see the streets until 2033
i sent a note to the governor’s desk, i knew he wouldn’t read
i got the call from his lady, three days later, he’s home free
[outro: jeremih, eryn allen kane & wyatt waddell]
we passed through great arches
a fortress of stone
hands and hair as co*rs* as wool
feet like burnished bronze as we march through the sea
in all of your glory (in all of your glory)
you may not fear
for the tides are turning
there’s a wind in your sails (ooh*ooh, ooh*ooh*ooh)
keep on dreaming, keep on loving
keep on moving, keep on discovering, yeah*yeah
keep on existing, keep on resisting
keep on fighting, yeah, yeah (ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh)
yeah*yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
yeah*yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
yeah*yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
yeah*yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
simmer down, simmer down, simmer down, simmer down
yeah*yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
yeah*yeah
yeah*yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
ooh, ooh*ooh, ooh*ooh
ooh, ooh*ooh, ooh*ooh, ah*ha, ah*ha, ah

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