Nas, The Game - Letter To The King lyrics

Second floor of my hotel
I'm rollin' up bout to blaze
And zone out
To this Frankie Beverly and Maze
As I daze about the past
And them days in the past
He set my mom free, so my mom free at last
So much that I don't even
Drink from a fuckin' glass
I'd rather find the first fountain I
Can and do it fast
Didn't understand the dream of a King
Do the math
Coincidentally on your birthdays I
Ditched the class
Cause the younger me
Dumber me was chasin' the cash
Chasin' the ass
Lowlife with his face in the grass
Ridin' home from school, in front of the bus
Not even thinkin' bout how Rosa
Parks done it for us
How she stayed behind bars and
She done it for us
And she stayed behind bars 'til
She won it for us
Sometimes I wanna give up or
At least take a break
That's when I close my eyes
And see Coretta Scott's face
Cause sometimes I wanna give up and
At least take a break
That's when I close my eyes
And see Coretta Scott's face

Standin' at the pew
Panaramic view of the seating and greeting
I've been meanin' to do
Me some letter reading
To the King, he forever breathin'
Your message is never leavin'
Some of your homies phonies
I should've said it when I see them
Them sleazy bastards, some greedy pastors
Jerks
Should never be aloud at Ebenezer
Baptist Church in Atlanta
So people be patient
I know this ghetto grammar
But I'm a street dude
Normally I just speak rude
Martin Luther, the martyr, the trooper
Hate killed him
Nobel Peace Prize winner
They duplicate your feelin'
As a kid I ain't relate really
I would say your dream speech jokingly
'til your world awoke in me
First I thought you were passive
Soft one who ass kissed
I was young but honest
I was feelin' Muhammad
I ain't even know the strength you
Had to have the march
You was more than just talk
You the first real Braveheart
We miss you
Feel like King be in me sometimes

The word nigger, is nothin' like nigga
Don't sound shit alike - like Game
Like Jigga
One came before the other
Like aim and pull the trigga
One is slang for my brother
One is hang and take a picture
The rope ain't tight enough, he still alive
Go fix it
Pour some gasoline on him
Call his daughters black bitches
Make 'em pick cotton
While they mama cleanin' up the kitchen
Same cotton in white T's
That's the cotton they was pickin'
If Dr. King marched today
Would Bill Gates march?
I know Obama would but
Would Hilary take part?
Great minds think great thoughts
The pictures I paint
Make the Mona Lisa look like fake art
I feel the pain of Nelson Mandela
Cause when it rains it pours
I need Rihanna's "Umbrella"
For Coretta Scott's tear drops
When she got the phone call
That the future just took
A fuckin' head shot
I wonder why Jesse Jackson ain't catch
Him before his body dropped
Would he give me the answer? Probably not