Turn all your candles on
Tell me that Your Light won't fade
Tell me that there's more of us
Tell me that Your Hope won't die
My city is an aquarium congested with pirañas
Excited from the red that be spilling from the violence
You think folk would speak hope, but most don't acknowledge
Tired of the nonsense that got us here in bondage
Carnage like an honor shorties wear like a garnish
Breaking news demonic, make a man want to vomit
Or maybe turn Amish, leave this cityscape's carnage
Behind us God is minimized, to a store front imposter
And toxifying chronic not a father
Teach our sons how to profit daughters wear pajamas
Trying to find their inner goodness
Posting sad pics, replacing all loving comments
That never came from their father
Thinking porn is honor and IG is their promise
Cardi got them. A Corner store world view
Identity counterfeits and lifestyle condoms
It's Acts seventeen philosophies on the feed
Where Old G's claim the truth, but religion is no deeper than a suit
As they steal from the pews outside we play the blues
It's the soundtrack for our news
The hood bible is a rap song with exaggerated liars
Dreaming of a block where Pac is The Messiah
Missing the Messiah for a misaimed desire
Wide road to the fire leaving much to be desired in this blinking light pick your vice
Blue Empire, Blue
Turn all your candles on
Tell me that Your Light won't fade
Tell me that there's more of us
Tell me that Your Hope won't die
Turn all your candles on
Tell me that Your Light won't fade
Tell me that there's more of us
Tell me that Your Hope won't die
Only hope is Christ sitting on the stoop, the throne
And knowing how to turn blue and red to purple hues
Look, Look, Look, Look, Look
I admit my birthplace is love and hate
Hugging the Go's like a cold embrace
Love meets pain living in this kind of state
Is Illinoise without saying
Walk Broadway, see the un-namely, unspoken hearts broken
Segregation been a cancer now we open our political deck of cards
Heads rolling, you read it on your mobile we see it in the open
Need a Red Spade to win game, Christ only
City more gully than your guys claim to be
Without claiming one thing
Never flash our class on pinky rings
We be more east than west
More work than rest
With blue collar charms at best
No Hollywood this is hoop dreams hall
RIP to 90's all the scenes we from
A salute to Stik
(Un Abrazo)
My final so long
I do the work of God
Don't know what'll happen tomorrow
Peace to all "seventy-seven" living through the hard work and resting on the Seventh
All my Years in the Chi
Soundtracked by Resurrection
One thing I know, One thing I know
Only thing worth, worth repeating in my flows
Christ is Risen. May there be peace upon my city