Alicia Keys - The Gospel lyrics
Alicia Keys [Alicia Augello Cook] NY, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Alicia Keys - The Gospel lyrics]
Two cent for a case, gimme St ide's brew
In the midst of broken bottles
And crushed up cans
Methtical's in a jam, oh how dry I am
With St ides in my system
Crack another I'm blessed
Let's go get the next one
And get over, the object is to stay sober
Lay on the sofa, better yet
Dial my chauffeur
Call me the Wallabee Champ, stretched out
Could never be Son
Ricochet daily hit the deli for a cold one
Naturally blessed, yes
My rap is like a laser beam
Laser beam, laser beam, laser beam
Uh, uh, uh
So we all got children
Products of the ghetto
Momma cooked the soup, daddy did the yelling
Uncle was a drunk, cousin was a felon
When he got pitched
He told them he wasn't tellin'
Auntie was a cook, her husband was a crook
Cause every job he had they be
Payin' him off the books
Ghetto university, knowledge is all it took
In a tenement I was listenin' to the hook
Change gon' come, the spirit of Sam Cooke
When the feds comin', everybody be shook
Now we doin' life like
Eddie Murphy and Martin on the chain gang
I was singing into the coffin
The roaches and the rats
Heroin and the cracks
Couldn't blame me, I'm just giving the facts
I'm tryna hit the top
Cause' bottom ain't where it's at
Everybody got a past but you
Can never go back
Oh, oh, oh, oh oh, oh, oh, oh
Sing yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Sing)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Sing)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Sing)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Sing)
Tellin' you like it is
How we ever gon' live?
If we ain't gettin' money
How we feedin' the kids?
It's a revolving door
Where brothers be doin' bids
I know it sound wrong but the
Door will be what it is
Survival of the fittest
This poor girl the illest
Broke parents and black cats
Give me heebie-geebies
Life seems hard but nothin' ever comes easy
Whatever's in the dark
Can always become the light
If you ain't in a battle
How you gon' win the fight?
I gotta speak the truth when
I'm up in the booth
The streets be flyin' birds but they
Don't be on the roof
Poverty is a pain like you pullin' a tooth
Told the streets don't let me go
Like I'm Bishop in Juice
Roaches and the rats, heroin and the cracks
Couldn't blame me, I'm just giving the facts
Tryna hit the top
The bottom ain't where it's at
Everybody got a past but you
Can never go back
Oh, oh, oh, oh oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh sing
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (yeah, Gotta sing)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (yeah)
Oh, oh, oh, oh oh, oh, oh, oh
(Sing) yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Sing)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Gotta sing)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (She's a king)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (yeah)
And they sing New York City
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah