"Inner City Blues" lyrics
Rockets and moon shots
And blame it on the have-nots
Money, we made it
Yeah but before we see it, they take it
Yes, make you wanna holler, right on
The way they do your life
Make you wanna holler, right on
The way they do your life
Inflation means there ain't no chance
To increase a little bit of finance
Bills they gonna pile up sky high
Send that boy off to die
Yes, make you wanna holler, right on
The way they do your life
Make you wanna holler, right on
The way they do your life
Hang ups and let downs
And bad breaks and setbacks
The natural, the natural fact is
Ah baby, I can't pay no taxes
Yes, make me wanna holler sometime
And throw up both my hands
Make me wanna holler sometime
And throw up both my hands
So you say you never heard of the Inner City Blues
And what's more you don't understand at all
What the ghetto people mean they say living behind walls?
Well then put on your best suit, white shirt and tie
And run on downtown to stand in line
For a job washing dishes but you may not qualify
Walk a big hole in a brand new pair of shoes
And you've had your first look at the Inner City Blues
Go looking for a place to live but all the while
Remember what lurks behind the devil's smile
Are we stupid or just naive that we continue to believe
Money can buy us anything
Including a slice of the American Dream?
Yeah, answer ads in the paper about houses for sale
And get treated like Charles Manson out on bail
When you start to get frustrated by the tactics they use
You'll recognize that feeling
It's the Inner City Blues
Yeah make you wanna holler sometimes
And throw up both your hands
And haven't you ever wondered about
Why some brothers and sisters were down and out?
Receiving their sympathy from a bottle of wine
Or worse yet old homicide
Living their lives in a glassine bag
While praising the mysteries of terminal scag?
Some of our brothers parading in drag
Another set of victims to what you choose
Yeah you can recognize that, that's the Inner City Blues
Makes you wanna holler sometimes
And throw up both your hands
To see sweet sisters, the blossoms of our African tree
Profiling on the corner, talking 'bout ten and three
Because in spite of all the money we made and taxes we paid
The woman was looking at hungry days
And some decisions had to be made
Would you tell her it's better to go to your grave
As a slave of the minimum wage?
Well, I hardly think so, but makes you wanna holler sometimes
And throw up both your hands
And what happens when people start to think
(Poster says, Uncle Sam wants you)
They have nothing to lose
Nothing to lose (Uncle Sam wants you for target practice)
Nothing to lose (Uncle Sam wants you for target practice)
Nothing to lose (Uncle Sam wants you for target practice)
Nothing to lose (Uncle Sam wants you for target practice)
Did you ever hear about Mark Essex
And the things that made him choose to fight the Inner City Blues?
Yeah, Essex took to the rooftops guerrilla style
And watched while all the crackers went wild
Brought in six hundred troops, I hear brand new
To see them crushed with fear
Essex fought back with a thousand rounds
And New Orleans was a changing town
And rat a tat tat tat tat tat was the only sound, yeah
Bring on the stone rifles to knock down walls
Bring on the elephant guns
Bring on the helicopters to block out the sun
Yeah, made the devil wanna holler
'Cause eight was dead and a dozen was down
And cries for freedom were a brand new sound
New York, Chicago, Frisco, LA
Justice was served and the unjust were afraid
When after all the years and all the fears
Brothers were alive to courage found
And spreading them goddamn rules around
Yeah, make you wanna holler black people
And hold up both your hands and say
Liberation!
Crime is increasing
And trigger-happy policing
Panic is, panic is spreading
And Lord knows where we're heading
Yes, make you wanna holler sometimes
And throw up both your hands
Make you wanna holler sometime
And throw up both your hands
Throw up both your hands
Throw up both your hands
Throw up both your hands
Throw up both your hands
Throw up both your hands
Throw up both your hands, hands, hands
And blame it on the have-nots
Money, we made it
Yeah but before we see it, they take it
Yes, make you wanna holler, right on
The way they do your life
Make you wanna holler, right on
The way they do your life
Inflation means there ain't no chance
To increase a little bit of finance
Bills they gonna pile up sky high
Send that boy off to die
Yes, make you wanna holler, right on
The way they do your life
Make you wanna holler, right on
The way they do your life
Hang ups and let downs
And bad breaks and setbacks
The natural, the natural fact is
Ah baby, I can't pay no taxes
Yes, make me wanna holler sometime
And throw up both my hands
Make me wanna holler sometime
And throw up both my hands
So you say you never heard of the Inner City Blues
And what's more you don't understand at all
What the ghetto people mean they say living behind walls?
Well then put on your best suit, white shirt and tie
And run on downtown to stand in line
For a job washing dishes but you may not qualify
Walk a big hole in a brand new pair of shoes
And you've had your first look at the Inner City Blues
Go looking for a place to live but all the while
Remember what lurks behind the devil's smile
Are we stupid or just naive that we continue to believe
Money can buy us anything
Including a slice of the American Dream?
Yeah, answer ads in the paper about houses for sale
And get treated like Charles Manson out on bail
When you start to get frustrated by the tactics they use
You'll recognize that feeling
It's the Inner City Blues
Yeah make you wanna holler sometimes
And throw up both your hands
And haven't you ever wondered about
Why some brothers and sisters were down and out?
Receiving their sympathy from a bottle of wine
Or worse yet old homicide
Living their lives in a glassine bag
While praising the mysteries of terminal scag?
Some of our brothers parading in drag
Another set of victims to what you choose
Yeah you can recognize that, that's the Inner City Blues
Makes you wanna holler sometimes
And throw up both your hands
To see sweet sisters, the blossoms of our African tree
Profiling on the corner, talking 'bout ten and three
Because in spite of all the money we made and taxes we paid
The woman was looking at hungry days
And some decisions had to be made
Would you tell her it's better to go to your grave
As a slave of the minimum wage?
Well, I hardly think so, but makes you wanna holler sometimes
And throw up both your hands
And what happens when people start to think
(Poster says, Uncle Sam wants you)
They have nothing to lose
Nothing to lose (Uncle Sam wants you for target practice)
Nothing to lose (Uncle Sam wants you for target practice)
Nothing to lose (Uncle Sam wants you for target practice)
Nothing to lose (Uncle Sam wants you for target practice)
Did you ever hear about Mark Essex
And the things that made him choose to fight the Inner City Blues?
Yeah, Essex took to the rooftops guerrilla style
And watched while all the crackers went wild
Brought in six hundred troops, I hear brand new
To see them crushed with fear
Essex fought back with a thousand rounds
And New Orleans was a changing town
And rat a tat tat tat tat tat was the only sound, yeah
Bring on the stone rifles to knock down walls
Bring on the elephant guns
Bring on the helicopters to block out the sun
Yeah, made the devil wanna holler
'Cause eight was dead and a dozen was down
And cries for freedom were a brand new sound
New York, Chicago, Frisco, LA
Justice was served and the unjust were afraid
When after all the years and all the fears
Brothers were alive to courage found
And spreading them goddamn rules around
Yeah, make you wanna holler black people
And hold up both your hands and say
Liberation!
Crime is increasing
And trigger-happy policing
Panic is, panic is spreading
And Lord knows where we're heading
Yes, make you wanna holler sometimes
And throw up both your hands
Make you wanna holler sometime
And throw up both your hands
Throw up both your hands
Throw up both your hands
Throw up both your hands
Throw up both your hands
Throw up both your hands
Throw up both your hands, hands, hands
Writer(s): Marvin Gaye, James Nyx
