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Big Country - Hard Times lyrics
[Killah Priest]
 The prophecies of a poor man end on a train
 Take his last breath
 Slumps over drops his last bit of change
 A mother pacing by her window pane
 Staring hopeless at the gentle rain
 When the messenger returns telling her
 That her child was slain
 She reaches for his picture frame
 Open up the good book read the scriptures
 And sighs his name
 The skies full of flames
 Streets are gothic
 Twelve niggaz lay dead in front of their projects
 Reminding D's of a classic mob hit
 Bitches gossip, about they men being targets, or suspects
 Niggaz in the lab taking golden seal
 For tomorrows drug test
 Scared niggaz hugging they techs
 Don't want to get plugged next
 Outside there's a bloodfeast
 We all product, faced with hard luck
 Since the wrath of God struck
 Now we like "Yo Tone let me borrow a buck"
 He like "Yo what the fuck"
 Niggaz was born to be skeletons
 Or was it the curse of this dark melanin
 When I die will I open my eyes in Hell again
 With these jealous men
 Lord forgive me but I smell a gin
 On the lips of winos
 Sent a plaque turned 'em all into Albinos
 With horns coming from their foreheads like Rhinos
 Read it in my last testament and my hidden scrolls
 See my icon straight faced with a torn robe
 A beard and some cornrows
 The whole globe hears when I perform my shows
 [Chorus 2x: Killah Priest]
 We go from hard times to part-times
 from part-time back to hard times
 That's the start of crime
 Till the day we see the father shine
 light on us, trying to warn us
 We play the corners
 [Killah Priest]
 I visit monasteries
 Where dons were buriedBig Country - Hard Times - http://motolyrics.com/big-country/hard-times-lyrics.html
 Approached the bench with teary eyes
 Tryin to con the jury
 Christ said those of you without sin, cast the first stone
 Those of you without ends, blast the first chrome
 Is it the prophecies of Deuteronomy
 that drove us to this poverty?
 Trapped with starvin seeds
 Fightin for sovereignty
 Cold nights make the toddler freeze
 Blood over my wallabies
 Raining mahogany
 Here's a dollar for the trees
 We worship weed like idolatry
 Silly bitches with conniving thoughts
 Sticking knives and folks
 Don't understand what it's like to be a black man in court
 Niggaz up screamin all night
 Complaining that their handcuffs are too tight
 Kicking on the cell till they cut out the lights
 It's like a curse
 Walk besides white women they start holding they purse
 I just ask you for the time bitch
 What you got anyway? Some of the Indians turf
 The Beauty that once flowed from the Nile
 Like the Moses child
 The hand that writes is a good as the hand that holds the plow
[Chorus]
 [Killah Priest]
 Some say the spirit of a dead angel lies within me
 Look in my eyes, they're empty
 Poverty stricken beaten with the rod ol envy
 Lurking through the shadows of death
 Dragging my wings, saw the image of a beast
 Ram, dragon and queen, heard the bragging of kings
 Whose laughter was as bitter as a scorpion sting?
 Forced in the ring with idiots so many cliques
 Letting out automatic clips
 A dead lady combing the hair of a bastard bitch
 I spit graphic shit you ain't hear half of it
 From my fucked up marriages
 To dealing with miscarriages
 From drinking with savages
 Driving hazardous
 I'm here today to meet the man from Nazareth
 Where's the pastor? Show me where that chapter is
[Chorus 2x]








