awkword - hands lyrics
[intro: awkword]
this that part where i’m supposed to lose it? get down on my knees, apologize to the music? stretch my hands up, and ask for absolution? no
[verse 1: awkword]
don’t stop, no matter what, throw your fist in the air
better watch for the narcs, your circle rots with squares
they’re getting knots off pot, friends still locked up there
run for shelter when you hear shots, stock guns in there
don’t forget for what we fought, do not be scared
righteousness and justice, it’s a lot to bear
it’s getting hot in here, as the system cranks
we’re all cogs in a machine, controlled by the banks
they just print some new money, to pay for the tanks
that they drive through the hood, no matter the rank
spouses pay taxes, broke, trying not to break
big business gets bigger, boosted up by tax breaks
that we never hear about in the news on tv
that we never turn off, obsessed with celebrity
getting paid for endors-m-nts, on products that fail
that we steal cause we’re poor and end up locked in jail
[hook: awkword – repeat 2x]
in the national mall, camping, come arrest me
in the middle of the march, chanting, ‘ftp’
in your cl-ssroom, ranting, about the wtc
off the white house railing, hangs, ‘let’s get free’
[verse 2: awkword]
stop it right there and stretch your hands to the sky
‘never trust police’ is what i’ve known since i was five
and every cop i’ve met always wants to know why
for all the times i saw my street swept up out in bed stuy
hop out the van and took the whole block at once
meanwhile, i’m sitting there, on my stoop with a blunt
punch homeless vet in the gut, break black man’s bones
gentrifiers are afraid to tape, (‘i might lose my phone!’)
and thats not all, i’ve had my run-ins with the law
picture this, my little sister stole a grand from the mall
and i, well i’m the teacher, 101 in breaking rules
black mask, robbed the gas station in high school
whipped the nissan round, with a bat in the trunk
neo-n-z-s with machetes, but i wouldn’t get punked
jumped the qb in the bathroom, almost didn’t graduate
had to tattoo him, he raped my friend that past sat-rday
[hook: awkword – repeat 2x]
in the national mall, camping, come arrest me
in the middle of the march, chanting, ‘ftp’
in your cl-ssroom, ranting, about the wtc
off the white house railing, hangs, ‘let’s get free’
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