With the early launch fo of the hip hop duo of Killer Mike and El-P’s fourth album RTJ4, proceeds of which go towards legal support for activists for social change, the final heartfelt track about fear, violence and love. The album was due to be launched in September, but was brought forward due to events surrounding the killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis. Proceeds go towards the Mass Defense Program of the National Lawyers Guild, a network of lawyers, legal workers and law students providing legal support for political activists, protesters and movements for social change. More of the album can be found here.
After the song, a emotional video of Killer Mike making a speech about police and protest is also included. Mike has a particular perspective on this being from a family of black officers.
[Verse 1: El-P]:
I woke up early once again, that's four days straight
I didn't wake you, baby, I just watched you lay
In the radiation of the city sun
I am in love with you, it is my only grace (Woo)
You know how everything can seem a little out of place?
All of my life, that seemed to be the only normal state
So feelin' normal never really meant me feelin' sane
And bein' clear about the truth and bein' sane have never really been the same
I used to wanna get the chance to show the world I'm smart (Ha)
Isn't that dumb? I should've focused mostly on the heart
'Cause I seen smarter people trample life like it's an art
So bein' smart ain't what it used to be, that's fuckin' dark
You ever notice that the worst of us have all the chips?
It really kinda takes the sheen off people gettin' rich
Like maybe rich is not the holy, ever-lovin'
King of nothin' fuckers, know we know you're bluffin'
You are dealing with the motherfuckin' money-money runners
[Verse 2: Killer Mike]
It'd be a lie if I told you that I ever disdained the fortune and fame
But the presence of the pleasure never abstained me from any of the pain
When my mother transitioned to another plane, I was sitting on a plane
Tellin' her to hold on, and she tried hard, but she just couldn't hang
Been two years, truth is I'll probably never be the same
Dead serious, it's a chore not to let myself go insane
It's crippling, make you wanna lean on a cup of promethazine
But my queen say she need a king, not another junkie, flunky rapper fiend
Friends tell her, "He could be another Malcolm, he could be another Martin"
She told her partner, "I need a husband more than the world need another martyr"
Made in Atlanta, Georgia, where I use to ride the MARTA
With a empty .22 in the front pocket of my Braves Starter
Tryin' to make it out the mud as a baby father is much harder
The same children that you love and adore, the court'll use to break and rob ya
Circumstance woulda broke a weaker man, but I put it on my mama
I'm a man of honour and the hardship made me a better money runner
[Verse 3: El-P]
This is for the never heard, never even got a motherfuckin' word
This is for my sister, Sarah, honey, I'm so sorry you were hurt (Ayy)
This is for the dawn, mama took a knock, had to change the locks
Dusted up, but brushed off and I watched, talk about a boss
For the holders of a shred of heart even when you wanna fall apart
When you're surrounded by the fog, treadin' water in the ice cold dark
When they got you feelin' like a fox runnin' from another pack of dogs
Put the pistol and the fist up in the air, we are there, swear to God
[Verse 4: Killer Mike]
Black child in America, the fact that I made it's magic
Black and beautiful, the world broke my mama heart, and she died an addict
God blessed me to redeem her in my thoughts, words, and my actions
Satisfaction for the devil, goddammit, he'll never, ever have it
This is for the do-gooders that the no-gooders used and then abused
For the truth tellers tied to the whippin' post, left beaten, battered, bruised
For the ones whose body hung from a tree like a piece of strange fruit
Go hard, last words to the firing squad was, "Fuck you too"
[Outro: Matt Sweeney, Matt Sweeney & A$AP Ferg, A$AP Ferg]
This is the story of a couple of small-time hustlers
Framed by crooked cops and forced to make a run for their lives
Nothin' but a bag of money, a stolen Buick Grand National
And each other to their names
They ain't friends, exactly
These guys have a better chance of killin' each other
Than beatin' the odds
No sir, they're brothers, and when the chips are down
I really don't think you wanna bet against
Yankee and the Brave (Brave, Brave, Brave, Brave)
Yankee and the Brave (Brave, Brave, Brave, Brave) …
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