The Roots - The Dark lyrics

rate me

Mountain high and valley low and river wind and tunnel deep

I have traveled chasing demons screaming, “All I find, I keep!”

If you don't pay like you lay alright, ok, that's fine with me

I'mma just spray my heat and say my piece and lay you down to sleep

Ain't nobody tell you clowns to speak

I'mma AK you down the street

Draw that bump that's built for the riots, see how quiet y'all can keep

Ain't no wilding, it ain't no problem

It ain't no question, it ain't no beef

Cut that check then things are sweet

I'mma go buy some diamond teeth

I'll be damned if my setback gonna help you get back on your feet

No surrender, no retreat

Nigga, we out here trying to eat

Hashtag diamond dog tag

Money bag, nice swag, pockets need an ice bag

Toe tag, body bag

Niggas lose their lives, sad

Rockets in their flight path

Breaking bad, making bad

Choices out here thinking fast

Smoking wet and drinking bad

Soaking wet and sinking fast

Shoot them niggas making cash

Stick them niggas, take their stash

The law of gravity meets the law of averages

Ain't no sense in attempting to civilize savages

Even though I wish I could be spared my embarrassment

I'm a nigga, other niggas pale in comparison

We out in Paris yet but still a nigga perishing

No idea how much time's left, fuck trying to cherish it

A life in times unchecked, now that's American

Inherit the wind, pressure in everything

The world ain’t ready for someone like me

And life is sex, stress, drama, and I’m hooking out 3

I’d rather O.D. than be the next OG

Than fronting for a whore that already chose me

One man revolution that’s supporting prostitution

I’m trying pimp the game where balling don’t mean hooping

And riding don’t mean cruising

It mean keep your bitch-ass moving

If you ain’t built for bruising, redrum ain’t in your blueprint

In a jungle made of concrete every animal Jumanji

On Easy-E and PCP, ass-cash or EBT

How you monetize pigeons on a power line

On a road to the riches every dude’s a dollar sign

I don’t mind, I don’t mind, long as all the smoke is mine

And the liquor store delivers faster than a Papa Johns

And I heard that death’s calling, money’s on the other line

The last episode of Good Times is my life

It's a phrase they say in the streets when the young players meet:

Get rich or die trying

But the funny thing about that phrase to me

Is that these little niggas be lying

‘Cause don’t nobody wanna die

But everybody trying to get rich, though

But the fucked thing about that

These lil' niggas don’t know how to get rich so

I still run with those angels

Man, I still peep all those angles

Speaking with guns, sticking in tongues

Talking that Arabic and that Yiddish

Riding them trains, stashing them chains, bangles

Yeah, I played all those games, though

My tag on the wall, you niggas look up

You can still see my name, yo

How did I end up where I’m at?

It’s kind of hard to explain, yo

I remember all I wanted was a gold chain and a Kangol

I remember all I wanted was a gold chain and some Jordans, too

Crossed that bitch, then I got that bitch

Now all I want from her’s an abortion

My mind filled with distortion

My eyelids say caution

Yeah, I sold crack to get my soul back

They say it’s gonna cost a fortune

And I wonder if Allah take debit?

‘Cause a nigga got real bad credit

If not, I ain’t got a whole lot so a nigga like me just can forget it