THUGZ MANSION

 

This song is dedicated to all the victims of the tone of your skin, of racial profiling

from police brutality, for the stereotypes, you're a thug....they call you a gangsta

but it's from the circumstances of the ghetto....

 

VERSE 1:

I'm sick of them ignoring, so I'll address and I'mma sing,

this is for the racial violence victims like Rodney King,

sometimes it's hard to think about, I say "fuck the world",

this is for Gavin Cato, Brittany Williams, and James Byrd,

it's for Megan Williams and Cheryl Green, moving dreams,

doing things to improve human beings like Dr. Luther King,

or Huey P., some have some thoughts of takin' human lives,

some contemplate suicide, or lucid dreams of gruesome scenes,

guns? Do it without one, to improve these streets,

make peace with our brothers, but still remember Malcolm,

for Michael Donald, this shit's for Brandon McClelland,

Jamiel Shaw, high school, I would have so much to tell him,

we're broke so we're faking knots, taken down by racist cops,

and Asian store owners, and they wonder we we're taking shots,

until the day we drop, we won't give up, keep your head up,

we're fed up and we know we're desperate, won't say we're not

 

HOOK:

Every corner, every city,

there's a place where life's a little easy,

little Hennessy, laid back and cool,

every hour, 'cuz it's all good,

leave all the stress from the world outside,

every wrong done will be alright,

nothin' but peace, love, and street passion,

every ghetto needs a thug mansion

 

VERSE 2:

Hear the church bells ring for the gangstas in Harlem,

comin' straight from the bottom, peace to Latasha Harlins,

but we'll never be poor long as we got heart and keep soul,

some cities they'll arrest and molest you for wearin' street clothes,

stereotypes of poor black males wearing all their pants sagged,

acting like they're gonna bust a cap or steal some handbags,

and it's stupid, all the gang wars, our brothers and our girls,

Louis Armstrong said he saw all the colors of the world,

it's for Trayvon Martin, we do what we need to maintain,

and it's foolish how we scuffle and then how we gang bang,

you don't go against the grain, you don't challenge the system,

'cuz they'll throw your ass in prison, that shit's simple and plain,

politicians design 'em, get profiled by police with badges,

get away, because they have departments right behind 'em,

I try to shine bright, and try to light the brightest, best way,

but how the fuck we pray for tomorrow? We can't see today

 

HOOK:

Every corner, every city,

there's a place where life's a little easy,

little Hennessy, laid back and cool,

every hour, 'cuz it's all good,

leave all the stress from the world outside,

every wrong done will be alright,

nothin' but peace, love, and street passion,

every ghetto needs a thug mansion

 

VERSE 3:

Let's take a different turn, sometimes these bridges burn,

you grow up and see violence around you, you live and learn,

it's for Michael Ainsworth, a man murdered at the bus stop,

for the niggas in the drive-bys who grow up and just got,

caught in the crossfire, shit's for throwin' all the buckshots,

for victims of their skin color killed by these corrupt cops,

but how the fuck would you feel if all you saw was poverty?

There's so much violence 'round kids, that shit bothers me,

that shit is nothing when you're raised by single mothers,

and you pay respect God, feel you've got to give him somethin',

acting like they fucking with you when they stuck it to you,

when you feel you got to something to prove, nothing to lose,

you just humming them blues, and we're reciting them raps,

you just running with crews, and we're all fighting them back,

and all the white and the black, we need to come together,

to live and learn we all make mistakes to make this better and

 

HOOK:

Every corner, every city,

there's a place where life's a little easy,

little Hennessy, laid back and cool,

every hour, 'cuz it's all good,

leave all the stress from the world outside,

every wrong done will be alright,

nothin' but peace, love, and street passion,

every ghetto needs a thug mansion