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lirik lagu ether the poet - hoodie power

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visions of travyon martin staring at me. if he saw me how you see me that would make his parents happy. sorry george i can’t turn the other cheek so you better stay low to the ground and keep praying every week…

uhhhhh i introduced my inner to my mental and it formed an instrumental that was instrumental in building underused potential. diamond dash hip hop with candy crush credentials. the recipe was simple, add a hook, line and sink her into the abyss of a sentence. write a page enraged about king or slaves not knowing you are the slave before birth and after grave. the scottish and the braves, a battle older than the measure age itself. emboldened after death, in honor of a martyr who’s triumphs were never felt. in love with every drink he spilt. skittles scattered on the floor. arizona’s no wh0r- but there’s more

visions of travyon martin staring at me. if he saw me how you see me that would make his parents happy. sorry george i can’t turn the other cheek so you better stay low to the ground and keep praying every week… x2

every move is a calculated step on this chess board, i rest lord, though every promise was kept. believe, they say is the key to achieve, but for us to believe just changes the way we grieve. man what?

i introduced my mental to the kindle of a fire burning higher in the peaks of my desire to retire doing better than your suppliers of tragic tales of murderers who walk the streets and the innocence jailed. this is the truth manifested being globally contested the outcome like how come of which i am invested is wrongfully arrested, all progress halted while concurrently the chain of evidence is being -ssaulted by the obvious truth. there’s a chip in that tooth, but how long will it be a crime to live as a black youth, i’m asking you to read and wake up from this matrix because a dollar 89 isn’t enough for this hatred. i’m through..

visions of travyon martin staring at me. if he saw me how you see me that would make his parents happy. sorry george i can’t turn the other cheek so you better stay low to the ground and keep praying every week…

every move is a calculated step on this chess board, i rest lord, though every promise was kept. believe, they say is the key to achieve, but for us to believe just changes the way we grieve. man what?


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