Letter to the King (feat. Nas)

Second floor of my hotel, I'm rolling up, 'bout to blaze

And it's on now to this Frankie Beverly and Mase

As our days about to pass and them days in the past

He said my mind free, so my mind free at last

So much that I don't even drink from a fucking glass

I'd rather find the first fountain I can, and do it fast

I didn't understand the dream of a king, I do the math

Coincidentally on your birthdays, I ditched the class

'Cause the younger me, dumber me, was chasin' the cash

Chasing the ass, lowlife with his face in the grass

Riding home from school, in front of the bus

Not even thinking 'bout how Rosa Parks done it for us

How she stayed behind bars and she done it for us

And she stayed behind bars till she won it for us

Sometimes, I wanna give up or at least take a break

That's when I close my eyes and see Coretta Scott's face

'Cause sometimes, I wanna give up and at least take a break

That's when I close my eyes and see Coretta Scott's face

Word up, Game

Standing at the Pu, panoramic view of the seating, greeting

I've been meaning to do me some letter-reading

To the king, he forever breathing, your message is never leaving

Some of your homies phonies, I shoulda said it when I seen 'em

Some sleazy bastard, some greedy pastors, jerks

Should never be allowed in Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta

So people be patient, I know there's ghetto grammar

But I'm a street dude, normally, I just speak rude

Martin Luther, the model of truth, but hate killed him

Nobel Peace Prize winner, they duplicate your feelin'

As a kid, I ain't relate really

I would say your dream speech jokingly till your world awoke in me

First I thought you were passive, soft one who ass-kiss

I was young, but honest, I was feelin' Muhammad

I ain't even know the strip, you had to have the march

You was more than just talk, you the first real Braveheart

We miss you

Feel like King be in me, sometimes

The word **** is nothing like ****

Don't sound shit alike, like game, like jigga

One came before the other, like aim and pull the trigger

One is slang for my brother, one is hanging, take a picture

The rope ain't tight enough, he's still alive, go fix it

Pour some gasoline on him, call his daughters black bitches

Make 'em pick cotton while they mama cleaning up the kitchen

Same cotton in white tees, that's the cotton they was pickin'

If Doctor King marched today, would Bill Gates march?

I know Obama would, but would Hillary take part?

Great minds think great thoughts

The pictures I paint make the Mona Lisa look like fake art

I feel the pain of Nelson Mandela

'Cause when it rains, it pours, I need Rhianna's umbrella

For Coretta Scott's teardrops

When she got a phone call that the future just took a fucking headshot

I wonder why Jesse Jackson

Ain't catch him before his body drop?

Would he give me the answer?

Probably not