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mistah fab - all slavery lyrics

oh, oh our father… in heaven
the 3-6 has summoned the devil, ok, you blessed me with 3-7s
i love god, but i refuse to put my trust in the rapping
or a priest, or a bishop that drunk drive
that touch little boys on to boys and on to lies
and when that chikd grows and confesses
and that preacher got the nerve to act surprise.
the pain.. the wrong words to a perfect scripture
the gr-ss grew the expectations for what the serpent b-tching
personification of all my feelings and said i ain’t working with you
truth.. guess that’s what they drunk drive and drinking liquor
the small things appear bigger
when you put small things in front of reality base mirror
when that boy from the slums realize that he could scare a n-gg-r
just by pulling a trigger
so he rap somebody to let his dough grow
a car descending in the ghetto is a no, no,no

chorus:
the gun, the bullet, the man that pulled it
it’s all slavery, it’s all slavery
religion and politics is bullsh-t
it’s all slavery, it’s all slavery
no matter how you look at it, man is all slavery
no matter what you say about it man, it’s all slavery
money, politics, same religion
it’s all the same to me, it’s all slavery!

guns don’t kill people, stupid people with guns do
what do you say to a mother that lost her son, too?
gun violence, cold thing, man, her son too
weapons of m-ss destruction is ignorance, you d-mn fool
the inner rate get richer,
every day a youngster can’t get a job, but she can sure get killed
city council want more cops, but they’re just like black…
they patrol black spots and shoot out the black box
every school i went to growing up and closed down
only school opened now is on the other side of town
parents can’t afford bus… the kids round
and the gas is too high, so guess what now!
the prison pipe line form just a part of the plan
to incarcerate another young black man
cause he don’t go to school, he on the block
better chances of going to jail or getting killed by a black man!

..that stuff you talk slave masters really work
cause nowadays is just working much faster
our great, great grandparents worked on them pastors
and it’s sad to see us kill each others and making our father’s b-st-rds
if i was from the future, ain’t gonna talk to a slave master
i say i’m not here to shoot you, and no need to salute you
cause part my people fertilize these plantations
i’m just here to tell you that you’re still working doing incarceration
slaves turn to inmates, whips, and shackles
from being on a plantation on being in jails whipped and shackled
all string of a struggle, the story that put blacks through
from cotton picking to tobacco, look who we are, dude!
yeah, we pick cotton for a living
now we go to.. and pick up cotton, true religions
so much for progression
praying into the sky, but can’t even afford to bless ’em!
so then you wonder why i’m stressing
you wonder why i am worried and i am mad
and we’re destined!
they say the struggle will continue
well, if this is life, what else is on the menu?

- mistah fab lyrics

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