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m.j rastah - cold ones lyrics

[verse 1: m.j rastah]

ages ago, it was “de realness”
i now feel getting older, rubbing shoulders, the he-rs- should’a told ya
my bodies catching warmer frustrations
writing in a bright lit ridden convict ship, uk left in the ditch
bit riddles and sit down, 21st century
being led by the th-rny crown
feeling ill effects of -ssimilation
through mono-cultivation
our history is a wasteland
of policeman taking daughters, taking sons, pointing guns
remove the red centre, yellow sun, put it all alone
“bring ’em all home”
“but not the black ones
we don’t even gotta recognize ‘em
few more generations their culture will be ‘whited’ out of them.”
bred out, take the lead out, take the soul out
hear 80,000 year old howls in the night
rewrite their history and mash the didge loud
take their stories and beliefs aimed down your sights
signing their lives away to a different race
for we felt the earth is better off being replaced
what did they do? threaten the white picket fence?
boxed ‘em in a rabbit proof fence, stop makin’ sense, makin’ sense
hear mothers wailing in distress
as children get shoved in to the backs of old forded up cars
flooring off, they couldn’t even afford
the families the chance of ever reconnecting with their young stars
seen as savage on arrival
decimated en m-sse, slaughtered by disease and recitals
of gun barrels longer than they’d be jailed for
any resistance was put down in an instant
n0body accounted for
“terra nullius”, aboriginals cl-ssed as animals
sub-human, like the jewish terrorized in their own state
slating their minds for decomposition
preservation invaded by construction
constructing social divide in societal paradigms
where the young and old alike
sip from the devil’s wine
alcohol brimmed through worn t–th
torn down culture means no ident-ty
no i.d kids at sixteen, busking, begging “please.”
pushed gods ideals of love and peace
but nothing good come out of morally taking the back-seat
masking hysteria, m-ss paranoia of even the just police
war-torn, feel the sun warm
the driest continent on earth
ain’t gotta lotta water
or fertile dirt
but somehow it kinda works
with the cogs still turning
twenty hundred and sixteen years into the future
but 100,000 years p-ssed, better get to learning
of indigenous rights, similar types, dreamtime rites
conserving the way it was intended
man and nature were once connected
see similar trains of thought in other cultures world-wide
tooth lathered via cyanide, like a brain shock to each and every spot
westerner’s succ-mbing the lowliers of the pot
fights ring, jesus sing, “oh how the almighty has created thee…”
but would his god approve of his own monstrosity?
i guess time’ll tell. i guess time’ll heal
i guess time will even forget what i even spat this for

for real…

[hook: m.j rastah] x2

i’m only s-teen but my mind is old
and when the sh-t gets for real
the black belly unfolds

[verse 2: m.j rastah]

see their flames burned the dreams of the cold
mechanical machines mechanizing deaths through smoke
beaten eyes watching the rich through the window
shoppers for goods imported without a thought of it
but in the recess of your mind
you know it’s at the mercy of an enslaved kid
working twenty cents an hour to maybe afford a shower
is this the traditional management that worked for so long?
or a p-ss-poor government without a conscience or a care for its own?
believe me i’m no better
got chinese pieces, taiwanese fleeces, indian elephant skins and supposed ‘fine french cheeses’
but awareness is key
to unlocking the transformation for our society
with the clock in – clock out, rocks in – glocks out, rocking – wogs out, hop in- bug out, times up – dimes out, firing – guns loud..

[hook 2: m.j rastah] x2

i’m only s-teen but my mind is old
and when the costs get for the real
consumerist minds’ll be exposed

[bridge: m.j rastah]

my name’s jeffrey, but my mind is cold
and shout-out to mobb deep

this beat never gets old…

- m j rastah lyrics

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