Correction Lyrics Bless the Child by Nick Grant

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Lyrics

Yeah, uh, Pacino movies, cue the scenes, they told me the world is ours
Admired mobsters 'til I learned they push crack in our projects
God's body, too much to dissect
Pray on you like these vulture women to NBA prospects
Too young to die
America eats its babies I'm just askin' can I borrow?
You feed a man but Indian who killed you all
Thanks for givin' us nothing
Vision crystal clear
Huey wicker chair
Smell the stench of fear
Hard to kill a king who's self-aware
Would you ride for me?
Would you die for me?
n***a please, you passed your loyalty around like project freaks
I'm Selassie in the Maserati
The ghost of Pac in the MGM lobby
The world is ours, who gon' stop us, huh?

Uh, on the road to riches and diamond rings
I can hear these ghetto screams
If you ain't livin' like me, you don' know what that mean
I can hear these ghetto screams
You hear that pop, it's the big payback, better get back
n***a we strapped, n***a
You hear that pop, it's the big payback, better get back
n***a we strapped, n***a

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