Nine Ra - Life's A Bitch
Hey yo Nine Ra, you think the world will ever really change? Nah mane, sometime I feel like people ain’t even really living, they just waiting to die…
Princes and kings, erased and replaced with Smiths and the Greens. / Try to reshape us, but listen to me, knowledge wisdom the key. / Centuries cut off from our family, how can it be? / Cut out our memory, like the hemorrhaging brain of Kennedy. / Deemphasized characteristics— once kings, emperors died, they’re a statistic. / Now green schemes, pimps, thighs, hair, and ballistics. Seems greed simplified terror; sadistic. / Eggshell ivory skin up on Christ, begs well wise he spending strong tithes. / Reveal frail eyes when women confide, confess, tell lies, in mental confines. / Daughter-stalking, no water-walking, but it really don’t matter he been up on ice. / Frozen Galilee, thousand calorie lobster and steak, the tender bone sliced. / Everybody got they idols that’s equal to Bibles, respect in the street, and the titles. / It’s vital defend against people that’s rivals, the weak, and the sleek, that be speaking the libels. / They peak in recitals, seeking the viral notoriety, / known on the phones of the whole society, no sobriety, get throwed, turn clone, no variety. / Wit thrown like a burner phone, anxiety…with living forever broke. / Can’t take it witcha perfect picture scripture wisdom never spoke. / People turned from pharaoh to feral, living like they’ll never croak. / Immature as zygotes and egg yolks, but never woke. / No gin on my chin I begin to analyze. Instead of spending time on women getting in her thighs / I'm spending my ends on an independent enterprise. Own a business and then men with my skin begin to rise
Life’s a bitch then it expire
That’s why we lit this fire— getting high ’till our soul hit the sky, mane!
Life’s a bitch then it expire
That’s why we lit this fire— getting high ’till our soul hit the sky, mane!
Life’s a bitch then it expire
That’s why we lit this fire— getting high ’till our soul hit the sky, mane!
Life’s a bitch then it expire, (Fi-yah! Fi-yah!)
That’s why we lit this fire (Fi-yah! Fi-yah!)— getting high ’till our soul hit the sky, mane! (Fi-yah! Fi-yah!)
Not confined by prophecy or destiny, or the profits I was told to expect to see. / Conditioned us, our conditions stress the bleak, poverty is the teacher and the mold for the death we seek. / From cakes to sell, fake as hell, what it takes to tell the youngin’ to be the one to break the spell. / You can’t make the bail, so don’t wait to fail. Boy you can take my advice or take the L. / Cyclical movement of sowing and wilting, difficult soothing the coldness we’ve built in /
Protect us from pain, try to maintain, life on the edge looking over and tilting. / Erasing traces of deepest hurt he pretends he doesn’t bare. / One death reflects another like mirrors his reminiscent stare. / Like a cycle. Harley Davidson with rifles. / No hope for revival, why we hardly pray to him in bibles. / Our heart is disconnected, great art has been misdirected. / Hate I intercept it, just correct it. I caress and kiss the record. / Scholarship from Older Gods attained from broken boulevards. / Bio Lab— pressing a towel on an open bullet scar. / Word of day’s 'trust'— killed by lust— that's what I heard ‘em say. / Fakes turn away like bird of prey neck vertebrae
Life’s a bitch then it expire
That’s why we lit this fire— getting high ’till our soul hit the sky, mane!
Life’s a bitch then it expire
That’s why we lit this fire— getting high ’till our soul hit the sky, mane!
Life’s a bitch then it expire
That’s why we lit this fire— getting high ’till our soul hit the sky, mane!
Life’s a bitch then it expire, (Fi-yah! Fi-yah!)
That’s why we lit this fire (Fi-yah! Fi-yah!)— getting high ’till our soul hit the sky, mane! (Fi-yah! Fi-yah!)
Whatever you do don't become fatalistic. Don't think of yourself as better off dead because life will always break through, no matter how hard it gets
