The Roots - Lost Desire lyrics

rate me

It's the lump in your heart

Or the pain in your mind

No one cares what the truth is

It's a fortress built on lies

I'm exhausted but I never ever forfeit

Y'all just bullshit while I knock a nigga off quick

Y'all start speakin in tongues and start reachin for guns

A militant will put this heat in your lungs

The street in the slums, the weekend is done

The local class always show you what they need to become

The seasons are done, and reasons are none

People dyin' bullets flyin' cause they squeezin for fun

It's all of a nightmare, that's right there

They hopin' that somebody in the hood just might care

With all this protestin' and rallyin'

Death toll tallyin'

Foul smells around them pails in the alley an'

The corner filled with teddy bears, cause they killed a child again,

They sing about murder, so it ain't a song it's hollerin

Get off the choir with your soft attire,

Niggas out here don't give a f**k, cause they lost desire

My city's full of heartbreakers and stargazers

Who puff Garsh Vega's

til they gone with the wind, like Clark Gable,

Breathin' like Darth Vader, believin' in dark angel

Yeah, we got flags, but they not star-spangled

We not patriotic, the heroes are not them,

Ghetto griots like rims, you stop, they still spin,

Tall tales at the bar, witnessed after dark,

And we still stompin an checkin the proper timbs

And listen to Rakim

With the "where y'all been?"

For realla, I ain't been schemin and plottin

You fear us? Fear itself, personified

Payin' homage to homicide

Prayin' to the dollar sign

It's idle warship

The rebel forces

Bodies lie at the foundation of the fortress

This is war, we expect some losses

And we comin' for the heads of the bosses

We on some casualties of war shit,

What you stand for, kid?

We in the city where they definitely lost it

You open your eyelids and capped in the ribs

Your funeral they have your 12th grade portrait

Pretty corpse in casket, bell-shaped orchids

Said he 19 and left a self-made fortune

And left three orphans

Now he in a box with the same chain and watch

That never came off him

It's a shame what it cost him

Where he come from it ain't nuthin'

It's a everyday thing, that's a problem

It's chambers revolving

Bustin' like Russian roulette

With a full set, then change what the odds is,

Flames in the mosque, and

People held hostage

Everyday I struggle, try to get up out the mosh-pit

Homicide for profit, tell me how we not sick?

This shit is out of control, they can't stop it

Thanks to Rico for these lyrics