Concrete roses at the graveyard
A nigga getting tired of this day job
I mean it feel like the boy don’t get no days off
But I’m getting money man I gotta praise God
I'm still trying to see when we gone win
Man I’m tired of the bull shit on CNN
Why y'all President on Twitter why do he go in
And why are women’s laws passed by some weak ass men
I mean sheesh, what do that shit solve
I’m trying to figure it just like a jigsaw
And I’m still mad that they killed 'Mal that killed 'Rod
And honestly a nigga pissed off
But we live in a time where niggas don’t throw hands
They just cash their paycheck and put it all in a band
Then they post it on the gram like nigga I’m the man
But Y’all don’t understand my nigga I Lost fam'
And that shit hurt, but I guess it make your rhymes hot
But do it matter if you end up in pine box
Facts, and the boy getting older
And everyday man the world getting colder
The best part of waking up was never Folgers
Just waking up was enough to hold us over
Being black steadily looking over your shoulder
Cause niggas getting killed over skittles and Arizona’s
Damn, that’s bar right there nigga
Preach, Church, yea
And I pray that we make it out nigga
Cause we so scared
Of the not Knowing and not growing because them shot going
Any and every way and the news keep showing
All them nightmares now cry tears for the fallen
Cause black mothers often put sons in the coffin
Concrete Roses
Yea yea yea yea
Yea yea yea yea
Concrete Roses
Yea yea yea yea
Yea yea yea yea
Concrete Roses
Yea yea
All of those Concrete Roses