AZLYRICS: Crooked I – The MAGA Continues Lyrics

“The MAGA Continues”

His name: “Red Hood”
His movement: “The Red Empire”
In the good ol’ days this doesn’t happen
Because they used to treat them very, very rough
I’d like to punch him in the face, I tell ya
The MAGA continues…

Word on the street is the Puppet Master got killed
I ain’t hear shit, I don’t know shit, I ain’t seen shit
Word on the street niggas snitched when they got real
That’s some weird shit, that’s some hoe shit that ain’t g shit
The block’s hot again, got the Robocops on our ass
What else they gonna do to us already come into the community killin anybody who lowerclass
That ain’t nothin’ new to us
If ya thought Eric Garner was the first then you don’t know the half
The bullets just shoot through us
See they catch us on the Ave. for your phone take a photograph
They gon’ go (doot doot) to us
Cop end a nigga life go home and have dinner with his wife
I wonder how a monster like that can look his kids in the eyes
Catch him slippin’ we gon hit him with the pipe
Pistol kissin’ him goodnight (mwah)
Used to kill us in the dark, now they just kill us in the light
Guess they figure if the pull the trigger on niggas that Martin Luther King fought for, what’s a civil right?
(Right, right, right)
Then they wanna know why we act ill with the black steel
Get ya cap peeled get ya hat filled with the lead to the head like an Advil how does that feel
Killin’ at will like the Hatfield’s & McCoys wit the toys, shootin’ like I’m Grant Hill
I’ve accused of givin’ ya fake news but Tamira Rice and Philando Castille that’s real
So I’m steppin’ on your ant hill, till the shit is at a standstill
Right I’ll tell my ghost to hit ya I’ma post a picture
That’s how I hit the net with your flicks and chill
(Nah chill Crook)
Sucka don’t like what I said, off with his head
Watch out our population of real niggas decrease when I’m dead
I can’t talk about unity
I can’t talk about unity
I can only talk about where I’m from niggas point a hundred guns at you and me
Higher ups want me to be the ghetto’s eulogy, musically, truthfully
I can get a million dollar market if I said “fuck it” and poisoned the community
But I’d rather drop that real
But I’d rather drop that real
Built in Federal crime bill
Got us in an incredible bind still, my OG’s locked up still
Pop that pill, rather pop that steel
Cause he been in there for years got eight more of those
Purple OG, got great cornrows
How long he been a ward of the state, Lord knows
Been boxed up since the 90s, get out
Welcome to the future, they still wanna shoot ya
They still execute ya, they still wanna noose ya
They still wanna abuse ya with no retribution
They talk of inclusion, it’s all an illusion
The baller confusion, the news they be using the propeganda views to install, in the youth, they alter the truth so they fall in the movement
I fall in the booth and drop an exclusive
All my interviews, they be calling my music, a problem i use it
To solve and rebuke it

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