Correction Lyrics 2020 BET Hip Hop Awards - Political Cypher by Jack Harlow

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Lyrics

Twelve, want you to know, I hate you more than you hate me
They really the threat, but that's how they try and portray me
When you spit the truth they try to view it as hate speech
Chi-town outspoken, hope they don't try to Ye me
They quick to say you crazy when you waking up and question 'em
Like, "Tell us, is this virus really fake or what?"
Segregation, paper, genocide, we had to take enough, can't wait for them to change
Got to show that we got faith in us, *****
Nobody in danger than a ******* Black man in this country
Tеll us about our Black lives like what's another ***** to a *****
A hundrеd years ago, they would've hung me
Went from sheets to badges to [?]
Make pops leave the crib and turn our grandmas to junkies
Make mama not want a job 'cause she get food stamps monthly
Kill leaders to misguide us, RIP Doctor [?] and Martin Luther
Mentality, Malcolm, front and center in this revolution

Yeah
I said I'm that girl, fat girl, Black girl, all 'em
They seeing problems, maybe we can solve 'em
People held they breathe, projected winning onto Rodham
But history repeats, we got to peach in state who balding, yeah
So now we summon all the spirits of the Baldwins
The Malcoms and the Kings, freedom ringing when we call 'em
People in the street they tryna vindicate the fallen
Tryna find our way back, reparations, payback
My money go to grieving to mothers, I don't need a Maybach
My drive is dedicated to my people under attack
Been rapping about this same oppression back then on an A-track
In hopes that every melanated person get to lay back, yeah
And we gon' get it come hell [?] high water
Expecting peace, a delusional tall order
'Cause we ain't free 'til it apply to every man
We gon' kneel until we finally get to stand

Just drove past Seventh and Jefferson
Still outside city hall and they pressing 'em
Last we heard, they reviewing the evidence
Same old song and we all know the rest of it
2020 turned our whole country to pessimists
You ain't said a word, what the hell do you represent?
All the young kids see us setting the precedent
Thinking 'bout the future 'cause I'm sick of the present tense
Fifteen-thousand-dollar cash bond
Now we back in the streets with masks on
Kids from the 'burbs ask Pops and ask Mom
That's how these old ideas get passed on
Something gotta give when the pressure get stacked on
Is you about action or is you just actin'?
I ain't got to post donations, rather just donate them
But I'm back home, I'm dropping the location

Adding fuel to the fire they ignited
History is now, we gon' be the one to write it
I look at both parties, I don't know if we invited
Ironic how this country's first name is United
I don't think it ever was, cities being overran
'Cause we're sick of asking for change like a homeless man
After Barack, I said I would never vote again
Hard to stand by waiting for the circus show to end
Knowing that my skin could be the death of me
I could be the next to be killed by the people that were sworn to be protecting me
It's either chemicals in all the food that they been selling me
You worried 'bout Supreme, I'm worried 'bout supremacy
No money and no tools, that's only half the job
More guns and less schools, make sure the path is hard
Some make it out the war [?] battle scars
But even if we get the credit we still gotta use a Mastercard
Throw the whole book away, there's nuttin' good to say
And they can do what they do best and just look away
We shouldn't play at a dangerous time
A smart one is a dangerous mind, you know the vibes, pull up
Go vote

Martin had a dream, pop, Breonna couldn't dream, pop
Call me Rap Three pop when I holla Team Roc
Jamming with an attitude, they never, every charge cops
When they aiming at our body—blap, blap, blap, blap, blap
'F the police,' the slogan
Until we pop the Trojan and they condemn
I feel like Odin, caught in these [?]
So they be on the [?], they shoot our Black skin
Repubs and oh-Dems, we don't owe them
Trump ain't the answer, we gotta say Biden
I feel like Biden, let go over my vices
The biggest gangs ain't the Blood, Crips or Vices
FDP, NIPYG
They let us shoot from the key with a big AK
I got pink eye, I see, see, see
Kamala dapping Palmer then I ki, ki, ki
Ki, ki, ki, laughing, no more capping
back and seven in back of
Jacob Blake, we gotta get active, this for Chadwick
Last tweet was "Vote," we gotta get active, blap

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