מילים לשיר Black Cotton – 2Pac

featuring Eminem and Kastro and Young Noble of the Outlawz Black Cotton Black Cotton
Black Cotton Time for a little gospel tail Ghetto gospel that is
Robbin' Black Cotton in God's eyes Speak Verse One: 2Pac Black Cotton Steady stressin' Smith and Wessons count my blessin's Class is in session the worst question is the first question Why do we work like slaves sweatin' blades to an early grave
Never got paid but still we slave (In the nine tre') Answer that then answer this too
Loves gonna get ya you know it's true life's a bitch true You best to backtrack and try to act black and live Not to be phony and positive but why be negative? What's the matter G? Black cat got your tongue Fat track gotcha sprung now your hung (Do ya feel me?) Dum dum diddy is it me? Attempt to reach each and every brother on the streets If not peace then at least let's get a piece I'm tired of seeing bodies on the streets
Lookin' through my highschool yearbook Reminiscin' of the tears as the years took One homie, two homie, three homies We used to have troops but now there's no more youth to shoot
God come save the misbegotten
Lost ghetto souls of Black Cotton (In God's eyes) Nobody don't care (No matter how hard I try Look to the sky n I ask god why) Nobody don't care (Seems like my dreams Drowned in by screams No answer to my questions) Nobody don't care (Feels like I'm pressed Why do I stress? It's like I'm being tested) Nobody don't care (Seems like my prayers Vanish to thin air Please answer my questions)
Nobody don't care Kastro: Verse 3 In the belly of the beast I'm bubbling up
Running out of luck, about to self destruct Old heads say live your life like such Your sure to catch her witcha one day boy
I wouldn't listen to 'em
Your power movement was cool But it ain't fix nothin' So I just go with what i know I dont trust none Look what the 80's did To what's Bebe's kids And now we grown up Nobody ain't own us yet Young Noble: Verse 4 Black cotton, I'm plottin' on what they owe me, I'm workin' without a profit They shacklin' all my homies
and we aint stop, its cutains, you try to rise
I'm hurtin' but keep the momoners irkin, and certainly we survive with Outlaw Ridas What's the reward for a strugala
If the lord lovin' us then why they hate to see us comin' up Runnin up, Gun cocked like nasty gloves If you aint got a penny, mind the glove No love Waitin' for my 40 acas and a blunt to blaze Biblicle times good hearts with milita minds Black Cotton
Black Cotton
Black Cotton.