[Lyric] Ends and the Means (Gregory Mfeka)

ENDS AND THE MEANS

VERSE

Twenty something candles on my cake/
Twenty something missiles bomb them place/
Twenty bodies underground six feet down everybody frown say grace/
Double twenty that's your age, then begin to say life begins too initiate/
But that's Bullshit, that's the true mierda life begins when you feel it putting pressure/

On you nigga, part 2 nigga, with two paths choose one answer/
Pray to God, and the 12 disciples that the path you chose, has no consequences/
Turn you to a tramp with no pot to piss in/
Turn you to a nigga know the gun you hang with/
Turn you to a bitch in thе corners sniffing waiting for a nigga to perform you business/

I just want my еyes, to witness my damn kind, succeed in what desires them to feel alive/
Them to realize their true potential might/
Them to realize color ain't a crime/
Us to realize, we should multiply, positive in mind, soul body crying/
Filling up a basket(that's impossible)/
Filling up a casket(too cliché for sure)/
I know you'll make it my nigga for sure/
I know that Billie gon' know you exist/
Go make it big, go kill the set/
That's what I tell myself, my own fan, A/C relaxed/

HOOK

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Verse

Tell me the stories about all the, turm-oil-spilt/
Back in apartheid like voice, time-traveling/
Fuck it I rather try paving the way, for the future/
Fuck it I rather go change the game for the future/
Fuck it I rather start talking about me nigga/
Fuck it I rather start talking about me finna/
Get this game, play this game/
Beat this game, test this game/
I just have to refine, twenty thousand hours harnessed in the craft/
Ten toes down in this quicksand, that's analogy is you bout to last/
Full throttle gas gear on the last, I ain't looking back if this music bash/
Family in France, fuck it in Japan Granny Lulu Glad I ain't turning back/

I go crazy, schizophrenic go berserk on station/
Police go berserk if provoked to the point they whip the piece for the peace to be on cadence/
Hope I don't get in the midst of the crossfire/
Slap on the wrist if they caught tired/
Lacking on the scene, switch the tale right/
Government deceit, that don't sit right/

Back to me and my bright dream, Billie Eilish lay my piece/
Bring the homies to the round table and we all eat feel like kings/
Swear to God with no profane language, please uplift the curse/
Pinky ring on my grandad and a Maybach for the years, fuck a speech/

HOOK

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