PHZ-Sicks - The Constant Lyrics

[Verse 1: PHZ-Sicks]
The smell of pissy hallways shouldnÂ’t feel like home
ShouldnÂ’t be the norm of images of guns pointed to my dome
Can I walk down the streets without niggas barking at me? (Woof)
Can I walk down the streets without cops grabbing at me?
Pissed, with my hand on my dick
Even dressed collegiate, I still get stopped and frisked
AinÂ’t this a bitch? From NY to Chicago
The bullets sing in different octaves but they still ring hollow
Continued constant sorrows, unrealized gone tomorrows
In the Cleveland Show, you might not make it to the age of Rallo
They say bullet doesnÂ’t have a name
First and middle Win 9 millimeter, Luger was his last name
How many bullets in Sandy Hook does it take?
To change a young black or brown kid in DCÂ’s fate
It was a tragedy, not saying that I told you so
But if we were, real about these guns laws couldÂ’ve avoided this some time ago

[Hook: PHZ-Sicks]
IÂ’m singing my Country, 'Tis of Thee
But they telling me to get down on my knees
I say we need a better education system
They tell me that we need to build more prison
Land of the Free, home of the Brave
But itÂ’s the home of the paid, land built by the slaves
If you live by the gun, you die by the same thing
And you wonder why shit never change
ItÂ’s the constant

[Verse 2: PHZ-Sicks]
Now pray tell the details of a black male and cracks sales
Although we mean well it does make our art sale
Whether itÂ’s gangster, whether itÂ’s conscious
We use to that black hell to launch our rocket
Onto the Billboard, media calls us lucky
At least on Thanksgiving, we handing out turkeys
Our communities are still fucked up but at least we lucked up
Said your city in our songs, now least you feel pumped up
Parties in Hamptons, rested in my mansion
Fucking white bitches on a bed made of lambskin
Jogging in the park, got stop by random
Cops asking me, which house I ran from
My ID with an address but still I get undressed
By a racist, where the fuck is the serve and the protect
They insisted I resisted, arm twisted, thought I left that
Back in the hood but my skin stills remains black


[Verse 3: Lyriciss]
They say it never change, I gotta agree with it
Spreading death with no clear sender, BCC'in it
Maryland the home, I'm speaking for PG with this
Next to the District, the dealers keep the D in it
Never learned to pull out unless they talking weaponry
One lookÂ’ll say it all like they mastered telepathy
Sheesh! My nigga, get you a conscience
Homicide far from normal, but trust me, it's constant
Boston dealing with bombings, I'd rather disarm them
Show my people the good life like Yeezy did Common
Right? But maybe I'm just dreaming too big
Maybe my message missing the picture like avi's and sigs
Life, dramatic as it is, they ain't give us a script
God gave me a plan and a voice and he told me to rip
That's what it is, so I'm going over these beats
And pray my bars can play the arms to get you all in my reach to end the constant


Thanks to PHZ-Sicks for correcting these lyrics

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