"AUDUBON BALLROOM" lyrics
Ransom & Dave East Lyrics
Thank you. Thank you, all
I appreciate it. Thank you, thank you (You know what I mean?)
Spit venomous scriptures behind these podiums
Nobody's cold as him, he sings the coldest hymns, let go your sins
The devil has no limits, his business got all my soldiers slim
Behold the Grim
Reaper who sinks his teeth into souls of men
Y'all niggas out of pocket like Malcolm X at the Audubon
(Get your hand out of my pocket)
They take a pound of flesh when the slaughter's on
Meetings at the mosque, be prepared to die when the war is on
Trust me, you are blessed if you hear the cry when your daughter's born
Shotguns and shell casings, blood soaks in the wood of the floor
Would you do more if you finally knew that your hell's waitin'?
Or in front of Heaven's gates with a juicy steak, tail-gatin'?
Your sanity is fantasy
I'm in tune with the anarchy
The chaos got 'em panicky
I'm best friends with calamity
The prison's in your mind and they locked you in with no amnesty
Why look to a celebrity to lift you up with integrity?
Puppets without sincerity
You could never fathom the levity
There's no way you can measure me
My energy
Blood of kings, my ancestry
I give you these jewels and pray that you treasure me
Verses by Frankie Beverly
These melodies
Got me thinkin' my people happy with crumbs, but it's worthless to thank your enemies
They use pawns to pander, puppet masters who lust disaster
Movie star tell you vote for him. Tell me: why would you trust an actor?
Rap stars and ball players, pop singers and famous folks
Sellin' you pain and hope
They ain't drop the noose, they just changed the rope
Different time, same approach
Don't look down at me for sellin' cocaine and dope
The blood's on the wall, just look for the stains to soak
I've given y'all enough of me
(Get your hand out of my pocket)
My brother, please, brother, please, no, no
I appreciate it. Thank you, thank you (You know what I mean?)
Spit venomous scriptures behind these podiums
Nobody's cold as him, he sings the coldest hymns, let go your sins
The devil has no limits, his business got all my soldiers slim
Behold the Grim
Reaper who sinks his teeth into souls of men
Y'all niggas out of pocket like Malcolm X at the Audubon
(Get your hand out of my pocket)
They take a pound of flesh when the slaughter's on
Meetings at the mosque, be prepared to die when the war is on
Trust me, you are blessed if you hear the cry when your daughter's born
Shotguns and shell casings, blood soaks in the wood of the floor
Would you do more if you finally knew that your hell's waitin'?
Or in front of Heaven's gates with a juicy steak, tail-gatin'?
Your sanity is fantasy
I'm in tune with the anarchy
The chaos got 'em panicky
I'm best friends with calamity
The prison's in your mind and they locked you in with no amnesty
Why look to a celebrity to lift you up with integrity?
Puppets without sincerity
You could never fathom the levity
There's no way you can measure me
My energy
Blood of kings, my ancestry
I give you these jewels and pray that you treasure me
Verses by Frankie Beverly
These melodies
Got me thinkin' my people happy with crumbs, but it's worthless to thank your enemies
They use pawns to pander, puppet masters who lust disaster
Movie star tell you vote for him. Tell me: why would you trust an actor?
Rap stars and ball players, pop singers and famous folks
Sellin' you pain and hope
They ain't drop the noose, they just changed the rope
Different time, same approach
Don't look down at me for sellin' cocaine and dope
The blood's on the wall, just look for the stains to soak
I've given y'all enough of me
(Get your hand out of my pocket)
My brother, please, brother, please, no, no
