The Last Emperor - Prisoner lyrics

rate me

[Chorus x3: w/ variations]

I'm just a prisoner, ohh noo

(I'm just)

[Verse 1]

Young man stepping off an uptown train

Ground still wet from the cold hard rain

Living in the city, know the streets by name

Take a walk with me, come and feel my pain

See what I see, come and get my glimpse

Dig a little deeper that the media clips

Underneath strugglers and the hardships

Two bit hustlers, big time pimps

Now look at little Mike, I heard he lost his dad

Drank a lot of liquor, made his liver turn bad

Now I see him out there serving that Yac

Will he even live to be a high school grad?

But see that lady named old Ms. Givens

Who used to serve lunch to the homeless children

Worked a lot of overtime, still got evicted

Spent her last dollar on a lottery ticket

I witness this from behind my gates

Totally determined to decide my fate

Food for thought when I'm saying my grace

I wonder if I ever will escape this place

[Chorus X2]

[Verse 2]

Now I done seen a lot of things in this town

Cry me a river like the tears of a clown

Made me familiar with the sites and sounds

To hit ya with the rhythm so you gotta get down

Shake off the blues to forget my past

Forget that I'm a prisoner but still I'm trapped

Stack a little cash, have a little stash

You either rich or poor, ain't no middle class

Man I'm trying to get it any way I choose

Come around the way and walk a day in my shoes

Same neighborhood where I paid my dues

And you can see the homies on the late night news

Why they out thugging trying to fire them guns

Don't the realize that they mama's need sons

Abusing their lives like it's gotta be done

Young black male that society shuns

If everything we do is so clean and so fresh

Then why have we become such a people oppressed

You say you don't care, hate it you I guess

It's a living nightmare, but its where I rest

[Chorus X2]

[Verse 3]

Now prison is a place full of cold hard facts

Where even the innocent might get trapped

Run down housing overcome by crack

The teachers can't even get a good contract

If it ain't the cats doing they hard bids

Or the mama's out working on the graveyard shifts

If it ain't the artists who display our gifts

Then tell me who the hell is gonna save our kids

Preacher man tell me, can it get any worse?

Don't the Lord love us, are we really just cursed?

With the hunger and thrist while I'm saying my grace

I pray for the day we can escape this place

Yeah

[Chorus: repeat w/ variations]