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crave moore – sammo lyrics

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intro:
artists are respected by the poor because what they do is an honest way to get out of the slum using one’s sheer self as the medium. the money earned, proof, pure and simple, of the value of that individual, the artist. the picture a mother’s son does in jail hangs on her wall as proof that beauty is possible even in the most wretched. and this is a much different idea than fancier notion that art is a scam and a ripoff. but you can never explain to someone who uses god’s gift to enslave, that you have used god’s gift to be free

verse 1:
tryna clear my mind
yeah i find thoughts spend time tryna feel alive
eyes all wide it’s raining outside
i don’t close the blinds see it makes me feel high
see a bird flyby got me thinking bout stepping out this window
the eagle has landed
the sun cry see the people are angry just let me soar
i’m no pussy the hawk is i if i don’t make it back to bed i’ll be mortified
mary mary hold my feet and let me see if i can swim and if i drown let go
smile as i slip or lean in touch skin let me die with a kiss
no speaking my pain is p-ssion look i ain’t tryna resist where my demons come and find me and shit
i’ma dance with jesus i can’t wait to go
spent my life wasting money out chasing hoes
it ain’t funny f-ck a fumble clumsy f-cker f-ck a f-ckin when i find a way i’ll find the words to tell my mum i love her
stuck in the slums of self-pity it’s silly kinda wish that tom was still with me

chorus 1:
tryna clear my mind yeah i find thoughts spend time tryina feel alive eyes all wide it’s raining outside i don’t close the blinds see it makes me feel high
tryna clear my mind yeah i find thoughts spend time tryina feel alive eyes all wide its raining outside
i don’t close the blinds see it makes me feel high

verse 2:
gun games with cold hands guess who’s the k!ller
suicide moves in my room i’ll find you staring at me till i crack tryna shoot the mirror
sooth and sniggers i hear them as i move the trigger
catch a body by my own name left a little poem by the weapon so they learn why
always felt foreign in this place i’ll be honest and say it’s much better being busy from a bird’s eye
third eye helping me to burn my bridges never burn herb felt like it obscured my vision
visual verbs caught up in a medicinal slur so blame dilla for the sting in my words
don’t pray for me cause f-ck knows i weren’t made for the heavens
i’ma stumble into hell have satan on his knees and shit like welcome home mr moore you little prick
i know i can’t change… so f-ck it
can i get a toast for all the niggas that had hope
the girls that tried save me maybe i’ll be sane one day and maybe all this pain’s ok
can i get a toast for all the niggas that had hope
the girls that tried save me maybe i’ll be sane one day and maybe all this pain’s ok