Paroles:
Black Lungs A Blessing And A Curse

We're getting closer to Babylon. [Repeated throughout song] Will you let me go to hell however I choose? [In background. Repeated throughout song]

not understand But God got a plan, to put the mic in my hand And his hand and that hand And ideas, and all of there's And the end, everybody up in here

on the Black people And the ghetto is a trap with glass walls Should I sell drugs, be a rap thug, or play ball? We end up in the grave anyway The average cat and

understand But God got a plan, to put the mic in my hand And his hand and that hand And ideas, and all of there's And the end, everybody up in here, in