XXX. FEAT. U2.

原文

America, God bless you if it's good to you

America please take my hand

Can you help me underst-

New Kung Fu Kenny

Throw a steak off the yacht

To a pool full of sharks, he'll take it

Leave him in the wilderness

With a sworn nemesis, he'll make it

Take the gratitude from him

I bet he'll show you something, woah

I'll chip a nigga little bit of nothing

I'll chip a nigga little bit of nothing

I'll chip a nigga little bit of nothing

I'll chip a nigga then throw the blower in his lap

Walk myself to the court like bitch I did that x-rated

Johnny don't wanna go to school no more, no more

Johnny said books ain't cool no more (no more)

Johnny wanna be a rapper like his big cousin

Johnny caught a body yesterday out hustlin'

God bless America you know we all love him

Yesterday I got a call like from my dog like 101

Said they killed his only son because of insufficient funds

He was sobbin', he was mobbin', way belligerent and drunk

Talkin' out his head philosphing on what the lord had done

He said, "K-Dot can you pray for me?

It's been a fucked up day for me

I know that you anointed, show me how to overcome"

He was lookin' for some closure

Hopin' I could bring him closer

To the spiritual, my spirit do no better, but I told him

"I can't sugar coat the answer for you

This is how I feel—if somebody kill my son

That mean somebody's gettin' killed"

Tell me what you do for love, loyalty, and passion of

All the memories collected, moments you could never touch

I wait in front a niggas spot and watch him hit his block

I'll catch a nigga leavin' service if that's all I got

I'll chip a nigga then throw the blower in his lap

Walk myself to the court like, "Bitch I did that"

Ain't no black power when your baby killed by a coward

I can't even keep the peace, don't you fuck with one of ours

It be murder in the street, it be bodies in the hour

Ghetto bird on the street, paramedics on the dial

Let somebody touch my momma

Touch my sister, touch my woman

Touch my daddy, touch my niece

Touch my nephew, touch my brother

You should chip a nigga then throw the blower in his lap

Matter fact, I'm 'bout to speak at this convention

Call you back

Alright kids we're gonna talk about gun control

(Pray for me)

Damn

It's not a place

This country is to be a sound of drum and bass

You close your eyes to look around

Hail Mary, Jesus and Joseph

The great American flag

Is wrapped and dragged with explosives

Compulsive disorder, sons and daughters

Barricaded blocks and borders

Look what you taught us

It's murder on my street, w'all street, back streets

Wall street, corporate offices, banks

Employees and bosses with homicidal thoughts

Donald Trump's in office, we lost Barack

And promised to never doubt him again

But is America honest or do we bask in sin?

Pass the gin, I mix it with American blood

Then bash him in, you crippin'ìg or you married to blood?

I'll ask again—oops—accident

It's nasty when you set us up

Then roll the dice, then bet us up

You overnight the big rifles, then tell Fox to be scared of us

Gang members or terrorists, et cetera, et cetera

Americas reflections of me

That's what a mirror does

It's not a place

This country is to be a sound of drum and bass

You close your eyes to look ar-