Rodney King by XX (X3713X) Lyrics
Reality’s become satire
Living underneath the eye of the evil empire
Everywhere I look I’m always seeing barbed wire
51-50, been about the gun fire
I'ma live wire supplier, my gun don’t misfire
Enquiring about me’s like water and Greek fire
Escape the system get people to think higher
Spread wisdom and peace but keep the piece, this ain't a cease fire
No justice, no peace, don’t trust the police
If I speak the things I think, I would get beat like Rodney King
I’m tired of living below the poverty line
That's why I’m commiting crimes but people dropping the dimes
I put tape over my camera, I think somebody watching me
Tired of living in a system of hypocrisy
Economy's a mockery, currency is burglary
I swear to god I wish the cops would come and fucking murder me
SWAT raid my spot, turn my home into a murder scene
I'm posted at the Burger King
Burgundy suede, Burberry shades
Lil' boy I’m still getting paid
I got the key to the game
Don't spend my money on chains
Don't give a fuck about fame
You can’t even type my name, you gotta copy and paste
I been running it up, you just been jogging in place
Talk about me but won't say shit to my face
If you want some beef, then you can come to my place
And where I won't catch a case
I put a 40 in yo face and then spray like mace
It's a rough paper chase
Every day struggle
When somebody think they wanna hustle but don't want no trouble
Hate to burst yo bubble but we popping
Hah, you know how I'm mobbing
Living underneath the eye of the evil empire
Everywhere I look I’m always seeing barbed wire
51-50, been about the gun fire
I'ma live wire supplier, my gun don’t misfire
Enquiring about me’s like water and Greek fire
Escape the system get people to think higher
Spread wisdom and peace but keep the piece, this ain't a cease fire
No justice, no peace, don’t trust the police
If I speak the things I think, I would get beat like Rodney King
I’m tired of living below the poverty line
That's why I’m commiting crimes but people dropping the dimes
I put tape over my camera, I think somebody watching me
Tired of living in a system of hypocrisy
Economy's a mockery, currency is burglary
I swear to god I wish the cops would come and fucking murder me
SWAT raid my spot, turn my home into a murder scene
I'm posted at the Burger King
Burgundy suede, Burberry shades
Lil' boy I’m still getting paid
I got the key to the game
Don't spend my money on chains
Don't give a fuck about fame
You can’t even type my name, you gotta copy and paste
I been running it up, you just been jogging in place
Talk about me but won't say shit to my face
If you want some beef, then you can come to my place
And where I won't catch a case
I put a 40 in yo face and then spray like mace
It's a rough paper chase
Every day struggle
When somebody think they wanna hustle but don't want no trouble
Hate to burst yo bubble but we popping
Hah, you know how I'm mobbing