Knowmads, Tom Pepe, Wilson - Oh Well lyrics

Well Its the hip, is the hop
Its the dip, it's the wop
Its the shit that we talk
Its the pick, it's the lock
Its the kids on the blocks
With their hands in
Their pockets and their souls in their socks
Its the crack, it's the rock
Its the failure to talk
With the moms and the pops
Its the access to Glocks that make
Them snap back and cock
Its the straight way to the top, they
Raise to take aim at cops
While the people that can make a
Difference place blame and watch (WILSON)
Its the nеver ending vicious cycle
Quick to bitе you
Back if you ain't watching yours your not
Of course conscious to this fact that we lack
A certain third eye to see that power
(cell?) just oblivious it's barely
Cracked the outer shell
Its the sour smell sniff of poverty
While passin' go to collect from
These monopolies complex like astrology but
I know inside of me, even I got the will to
Be committing armed robbery
So I reach to god
Helplessly but we ain't spoken since
I was forced to go
To church and stand behind my
Picket fence to everyone
Its just mista smoke that hocus pocus shit
Call me a hypocrite but at least I noticed it
Too many people are scared to address
The problems, take a guess
It's cause only have the populations got 'em
So my heart stays throbbing
For these people left
In coffins, six feet deep in the street
That's rock bottom

Well Its the hip, is the hop
Its the dip, it's the wop
Its the shit that we talk
Its the pick, it's the lock
Its the kids on the blocks
With their hands in
Their pockets and their souls in their socks
Its the crack, it's the rock
Its the failure to talk
With the moms and the pops
Its the access to Glocks that make
Them snap back and cock
Its the straight way to the top, they
Raise to take aim at cops
While the people that can make a
Difference place blame and watch

Its the bullshit, drama, everybody frontin'
Always saying something but they
Never doing nothing
Its the five year old child
In Uganda with a problem
While you smoking marijuana and pretending
That you got 'em
Its the sunrise, and the sunset
It's the standards that they set that
Make you settle for less
Its the cigarette stress sagging glaze
Of a store clerk
Tryna get paid to replace his kids torn shirt
But oh well, it's tomorrow the day
And don't you know he went and
Drank his daughters dollars away
Now he's sitting on a cop
Car, sippin' off a Rockstar
Mixed with some Monarch
But that's not our problem
We got our lives to live and what we doing
Right now effects the lives of our kids
I'm just tryna be happy I
Ain't tryna be rich
But, if you don't make sense then
You ain't worth shit kid (WILSON)
Its the hip, is the hop
Its the dip, it's the wop
Its the shit that we talk
Its the pick, it's the lock
Its the kids on the blocks
With their hands in
Their pockets and their souls in their socks
Its the crack, it's the rock
Its the failure to talk
With the moms and the pops
Its the access to Glocks that make
Them snap back and cock
Its the straight way to the top, they
Raise to take aim at cops
While the people that can make a
Difference place blame and watch

It's the alcohol addiction and
The marijuana smoke
Its the nights when I'm holding
Tokes sayin I wanna joke, it's the girls
The broken relations that we be
Facing, of music making, i ain't amused by
Any faking, while many blatant, they sitting
Waiting, procrastinating, I'm meditating
And navigatin', through Satan
While y'all be moving the
Rhythms without a vision
Dismissin' what you were given for your
Living that ain't the biz
But are you sitting a victim
Will have you risen
My brother said that once he was in prison
That's when he
Listened so I envision that living
Condition image, I'm sitting
And I'm repenting any blemish until I finish
I drink the water from the fountain of life
Replenish i'm thinking father in the town
When the lights diminish
Hoping we don't get stuck with our hands up
But, if we do then we wave 'em to the anthem

It's the hip, is the hop
Its the dip, it's the wop
Its the shit that we talk
Its the pick, it's the lock
Its the kids on the blocks
With their hands in
Their pockets and their souls in their socks
Its the crack, it's the rock
Its the failure to talk
With the moms and the pops
Its the access to Glocks that make
Them snap back and cock
Its the straight way to the top, they
Raise to take aim at cops
While the people that can make a
Difference place blame and watch
(and oh well, oh well)
(and oh well, oh well)