Melancholy Funk

Lyrics

Awon Soulapowa For the mind though You know Melancholy funk for your soul Bounce Ah ha, yeah, let's go [Verse 1] I shed too many tears I lost too any peers Lost too many brothers All too many years A lot of slow walking A lot of sad singing Y'all talk about it I still hear the shots ringing See all through American, inner-city streets There's more terrorism here than in the middle east That's why I'm the beast, the beast of no nation Young, black, intelligent with street education Y'all got me fucked up, taking kindness for weakness But all these elitists think we are defeated Getting too blind to see it, it is what it is So be it So don't come out your mouth with no street shit Y'all stand for nothing but fall for anything I don't need nobody to tell me I'm a king I validate myself I was cut from the cloth Hold the keys to my own door Homie I'm a boss [Chorus] You don't understand this darkness Pull up a chair, twist up a gram and spark it I got a story to tell The melancholy funk that's a warrior's tale From the belly of the beast Where the streets have a hold on your soul like a leash Capeesh, funky like tuna fish grease Pray to the east, wash my hands then I feast [Verse 2] You got me fucked up now, I was really born a gangster In the crack house, I was groomed to get the paper Grabbed my first tone when I was five years old Robbed at six for my chain I was grown A product of the streets, a prisoner of war 'Cause my grandfather used to serve raw at the door No one in the world could tell me we were poor But deep inside my heart, I knew we deserved more More for my people, more for my hood Just to get by the fam was up to no good So fuck these jobs, fuck clocking in Slave no more, bitch, I deserve to win I repent for my sins With a pint full of Hen And a blunt full of loud that's on my dead friends You got me fucked up because the place where I begin Is the place where you will end I'm too honest to pretend Uh [Chorus] You don't understand this darkness Pull up a chair, twist up a gram and spark it I got a story to tell The melancholy funk that's a warrior's tale From the belly of the beast Where the streets have a hold on your soul like a leash Capeesh, funky like tuna fish grease Pray to the east, wash my hands then I feast