Hereditary - Ransom

I who always who the way the pallbearer, long before the rigors of college

But the most famous advice with how the streets named in our honor

Martin Luther King Drive and Malcolm X Boulevard

Both debunk the myth of respectability and bruise that no matter the politics

All black boys are doomed to die by bullets, but how could you complain

We demand justice for Breonna and George, I pray that you rest well

When I was locked, I witnessed a murder right in the next cll

The COs beat that brother to dath for smuggling nextails

Killed him while he was cuffed and I bet that made all their chests well

Elderberries with fresh kale, immune to your viruses that infect males

In tune with the Bible and all its possessed spells

No need to touch Hell, we felt the brother’s pain

He was suffocated with knee, now the country’s waiting to exhale

I’m even killed without being killed

I demand respect and I won’t leave until

I’ma bet on black like I was Stephen Hill

Living in them shacks and thinking we should kill

Now they say it’s cap, you thinking we should kneel

How they held us back will be a secret still

You don’t hear them screeching wheels

You don’t hear them shots fire, firearm I keep concealed

Plantation cops hired, they’re here to police the field

American dream, you sleeping if you believe it’s real

How you think my people feel?

We ain’t dodging bullets ‘cause we’re seeking thrills

I done seen some shit that’ll make a preacher squeal

They say that we’re sick because the streets is ill

Heart is cold enough to give the reaper chills

Everything I speak surreal

Record labels, keep your deal

I just told my momma she don’t need them pills

Screaming, «fuck Your Honor, we don’t need appeals»

Speaking of pills, I need to speak to Bill

How could you hurt your wife?

He serving life, I need to see Camille

Modern day warfare, they’re trying to kill us off here

Them days that we all feared, they say life ain’t all fair

Shoutout to Jemele Hill, the haters took her off air

But now we know that Hell’s real because my people all here

Shit that I’d be forced to write, I’m in the mind of Kobe before his flight

Was he nervous?

Was he relaxed?

Did he think to call his wife?

Was it service?

Did she collapse when she heard he lost his life?

What a circus, media traps, just try to ignore the hype

Somebody had to wipe the blood up off the cross of Christ

Somebody had to tell Martin King he was forced to fight

Somebody had to teach Ray to play when he lost his sight

Life is quick, the words of a Malcolm X on a Harlem night

(Goddamn), I’m just saying I’ll do the dirty work

Never trust the word from a fiend’s mouth on the 31st

You ever seen a preacher with Cadillacs in a dirty church?

Think we deserve this curse?

Know where you heard this first

«Be my victim»