Текст песни Peace to Romoana - Dat Boi Vic

Peace To Romoana
Police outside shooting
Babies inside crying in the corner
Water floods the whole basement
Police agents
Dropping bombs on ya
Had to question my own persona
Like.
what the fuck I need a Benz for?
Why the fuck I need a million dollars?
Just so I can spend more
Filthy rich on the outside
But deep down
I'm within poor
What the fuck is on your mind nigga?
You ain't know it's been war?
You out here buying luxury whips
Right off the Benz floor
In store
spent a couple racks
Retail therapy
Bought a couple gold medallion Chains
Young Eric B.
Tricking on them model bitches
Who don't really care for me
Kinky hair
West African
Mixed with black Cherokee
Kinky hair
Kinky ass beard
ima wear it free
Fuck who got the album of the year
Ten people just died
Got shot up buying groceries
For being black and outside
Fuck who got the album of year
Them babies got kilt
Inside their own classroom
Imagining how that felt
As a parent
Staring at the building
Hearing shots blast
The brave teacher
Stood in front of the children
But got dropped fast
The sad poet
Channeling my thoughts
Through a shot glass
Screaming stop the violence
But excited when my opp pass
Fuck the finals
Fuck a sport
Fuck a mock draft
Had to cleanse my sins
Inside a spiritual hot bath
Looking at the ceiling
I ain't cried in a long time
How you compare real artists
To niggas in their songs lying
Righteous nigga with the wrong mind
Niggas online
Gangbangin
talking about the killers
But only with their own kind
Peace to Yusuf Hawkins
As the night darkens
I watch the moon
Michael Donald lynched for being black
Niggas ain't in tune
Fighting on the internet
Gangstas in the chat room
Live streaming how they making money
How the trap boom
Feds watching
Hit 'em with the Rico
Was it even worth it?
Bad bitch filtering her pictures
You think she really perfect?
Peace To Romoana
Peace to them precious babies
That didn't get to live
Unplugged from out the matrix
Finally seen what freedom is
Free from all the gossip
That be going on in shaderooms
You trapped inside a plantation
Moonwalking with slave brooms
So we don't give a fuck
About your album of the year list
And who seems to appear rich
And new designer gear kicks
Cuz when real niggas hear this
They feel it in their soul
So we could give a fuck
About a album going gold
Nigga this shit is art
You can't rate it by what it sold
The truth behold
The black sun
Who's life begun
In a world so cold

Peace to Romoana