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​Letter To The King

This song is by The Game, features Nas and appears on the album LAX (2008).

Second floor of my hotel
I'm rollin' up bout' to blaze
It's on now
To this Frankie Beverly and Mase
As our days about to pass
And our days in the past
He said my mind free
So my mind free at last
So much that I don't even drink from a glass

I'd rather find the first fountain I can
And do it fast
Didn't understand the dream of a king
I do the math
Coincidentally on ya birthdays
I ditched the Class
Cause the younger me, dumber me
Was chasin the cash
Chasin the ass
Lowlife with his face in the grass

Ridin' home from school
In front of the bus
Not even thinkin' bout how
Rosa Parks done it for us
How she stayed behind bars
And she done it for us
And she stayed behind bars
Till she won it for us

Sometimes I wanna give up
Or at least take a break
That's when I close my eyes
And see Coretta Scott's face. (x2)

Word up Game

Standin at the Pu
Panoramic view of the seating
Greeting
I've been meanin'
To do me some letter readin
To the king, he forever breathin
Your message is never leavin'

Some of your homies, fonies
I shu said it when I seen em
Some sleezy bastards
Greedy pastors
Should never be allowed to be
In Ebanezer Baptist Church
In Atlanta
So people be patient
I know there's ghetto grammar

But I'm a street dude
Normally I just speak rude

Martin Luther
The model of truth
But hate killed em
Nobel peace prize winner
They duplicate the feelin'

As a kid, I ain't relate really
I sell your dream speak jokely
Till your world awoken me

First I thought you was passive
Soft one to ass kiss
I was young
But honest, I was feelin' Muhammed
I ain't even know the strip
You had to have the march

You were more than talk
The first real Bravehart
We miss you.

The word NIGGER
Is nothin' like nigga
Don't sound shit like
Like game like Jigga
One came before the other
Like aim and pull the trigga

Wanna slang for my brotha
Wanna hang and take his picture
The rope ain't tight enough
He still alive, go fix it
Pour some gasoline on em
Call his daughters Black Bitches
Make 'em pick cotton
While his momma cleanin up the kitchen
Same cotton in white tees
That's the cotton they was pickin'
If Dr. King marched today would Bill Gates march?
I know Obama would
But would Hillary take part?

Great minds think great thoughts
The pictures I paint
Make the Mona Lisa look like fake art

I feel the pain of Nelson Mandella
Because when it rains, it pours
I need Rihanna's umbrella
For Coretta Scott's tear drops
When she got the phone call that
The future just took a fuckin' headshot

I wonder why Jesse Jackson didn't catch em
Before his body drop
Would he give me the answer
Probly Not.

Cut to DMX.