lirik lagu nick menn – gods and guns
(verse 1) (nick menn)
he was a young adolescent
always in their presence
always round his molestors and they was real aggressive
pretend to spread the word of god and p-ssing out his blessings
but that was just a code name for them having kids undressing
sometimes called confessions
or practicing processions
using their profession just to cover their transgressions
but when the secret spread out they got worried, started stressin
and tried to talk to his mom but his momma taught a lesson
life ain’t sweet, no honeycomb
preacher pulls up to his home
momma screaming “leave him ‘lone”
preacher asking “what is wrong?”
momma pulls out her new chrome
welcome to the thunderdome
puts the pistol to his dome
he starts praying to the lord
he said “please don’t do me harm
mercy, mercy, mercy, lord
mercy, mercy, mercy, lord”
she said “he don’t hear you boy
he ain’t nowhere near you boy
this right here gone bring me joy”
blew his head off in her yard
turned around like nothin’s wrong (sheesh!)
and she say
(hook) (x2)
re-really though
k!llers say the devil’s fake
and god is just a story told
if god made us then we made guns, then god must have guns of his own
if god made us then we made guns, then god must have guns of his own
(verse 2) (t-dubb-o)
god said he make footstools out of enemies, yeah?
so don’t get caught inside of the crosshairs of this jesus piece (yeah)
but the media paint a wicked web of smoke and mirrors
mug shots of broken spirits, ignore conditions that force a n-gga to buy a gun, but can’t afford life insurance
it’s like since we was striking for civil rights and they decided soon as we ignite the movement, co-intel pro murder half the leaders, some go to jail so we left with the few
they got on strings make the wrong move the stool you standing on goes
they just stringing us along, bringing us along look
we starving tryna make a mill out a thousand, 50 in the drum won’t do me like malcolm
ready for funk, here i come
strapped in the function trust me you don’t want none, yeah
always frontline suited up, morph time, north north north-side, dark-times, mark my words, pardon my serve
human nature to survive, we come from nothin, curve my ambition for the systems, comfort m-th-f-cka the nerve of you
from the failing schools, to streets filled with abandoned rooms, where the cops-a-shoot you if you stand or move
wanna put a hole in my head
all cuz i’m young and black, so i’m thuggin’ and strapped
touch one of us we gon’ murder you dead (on god)
(hook) (x2)
re-really though
k!llers say the devil’s fake
and god is just a story told
if god made us then we made guns, then god must have guns of his own
if god made us then we made guns, then god must have guns of his own
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