Lyrics Bones – 1968
Text:
Robert Kennedy:
«Could you lower those signs please? I have some very sad news for all of you, and that is that Martin Luther King was shot and was killed tonight. Martin Luther King dedicated his life to love and to justice between fellow human beings. He died in the cause of that effort.»
Bones:
See, I could make the world crazy from the sound of a drop
You tryin’ to calm me like Bobby when MLK got shot
See El feelin’ like Slim back when Wayne got hot
And everybody thinkin’, «Damn, will he change or not?»
I been the same everyday and that’s my biggest fuckin’ downfall
Say they fuck with me but can’t name a fuckin’ album
Sayin’ that they bought one, I’ve yet to fuckin’ sell one
Say they love me but they don’t know Elmo
I don’t want a outcome, that’s the fuckin’ thing
They waitin’ on labels, labels waitin’ on me
Wantin’ the change from the beats to the names
Rather nickle-dime every meal than be in the game
Fuck you, fuck rap and fuck hip-hop
Like I really give a fuck if I’m hot or not
No car, no chains, I ain’t fuckin’ all these bitches
Still life so sweet and I don’t even fuck with Swishers
See El feelin’ like Slim back when Wayne got hot
And everybody thinkin’, «Damn, will he change or not?»
I been the same everyday and that’s my biggest fuckin’ downfall
Say they fuck with me but can’t name a fuckin’ album
Sayin’ that they bought one, I’ve yet to fuckin’ sell one
Say they love me but they don’t know Elmo
I don’t want a outcome, that’s the fuckin’ thing
They waitin’ on labels, labels waitin’ on me
Wantin’ the change from the beats to the names
Rather nickle-dime every meal than be in the game
Fuck you, fuck rap and fuck hip-hop
Like I really give a fuck if I’m hot or not
No car, no chains, I ain’t fuckin’ all these bitches
Still life so sweet and I don’t even fuck with Swishers
Backwoods guts on my shoes, never playin’ by the rules
Why you workin’ on school? I’m higher than you ever been
Welcome to my tomb, welcome to my world
Comin’ down clean, I’mma take your girl
Ridin’ on blades, bitch, I’m cashed, hundred blunts to the face