J.J. Demon - Years of Lead

Feds at the gate
Snake on the sword
Arms for the poor
Take what is yours
Lead in the paint
Clip full of lead
The dead in the way
Script full of death
Take what the kept

At seventeen they had me in the county with the big boys
Let me say that
I only met my father once but he told me find something you'll be great at
A robbery that had the cops up in the high school gunning with the task force
Guess I had the right idea
Nowadays I focus on the ones that ask for it
Fenian
Armalite is in the Honda almost hit the median
Class war up in the streets speeding up your karma
We got the ingredients
Take it up another gradient
And them grenades save them for the greediest
We're growing beards waiting for the trickle
Got us thinking something more immediate
And when we talk about the shootings now it's got a revolutionary reasoning

Chopper copping out the trunk space
Welcome to the Season of the Balaclava
You all propaganda with the pump fake
And the prison is my only alma mater
And I'm nodding out up in the drunk tank
It's the poverty that made us homicidal
An event to talk about it one day
May the rich become unsafe

Heaven protect us from men who live the illusion of danger

May the rich become unsafe
Kneel and pray to my gunsafe
My comrades took a blood oath
Your comrades need a blood bank
In North Philly smoking love boat until we found a cause for that gunplay
And it's RIP to my gung ho's never coming home
It took one taste
Yeah they trying to do me like I'm Trumbo
Blow the trombone. With the elephant gun and
You know I'm always going Dumbo
Tell me how fast can a skeleton run?
Is there a line from me being a felon to when the twin towers fell in '01?
When I was my daughter's age I was only two years away from a Felony One
And I'm wondering if this is the type of shit I should be telling my son
I never thought that it would happen to me
I never thought that it would happen to me
You never think that it'll happen to you
Oblivion is where the tragedy sleeps
They raided Dom he had my gat in his room
He kept it quiet almost passionately
He ate the charges with a fork and a spoon
He could have walked if he'd have ratted on me
To say my heart endured a torturous wound
I got the call and I collapsed to my knees
That morning I became a corpse in the room
Back to the needle it was natural to me
My brother died I was the fortunate son
I'm in the beater with the ratchet on me
Revenge is all that's now important
I've come to massacre the driver through the passenger seat
Woke up hours later in the hospital I had just badly OD'd

Chopper copping out the trunk space
Welcome to the Season of the Balaclava
You all propaganda with the pump fake
And the prison is my only alma mater
And I'm nodding out up in the drunk tank
It's the poverty that made us homicidal
An event to talk about it one day
May the rich become unsafe

May the rich become unsafe
May the rich become unsafe
May the rich become unsafe
And may our cliques become one gang

Written by:
John Shinners

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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