Print

The ghost of Mandela, hope my flows they propel itLet these words be your earth and moon you consume every messageAs I lead this army make room for mistakes and depressionAnd with that being said my nigga, let me ask this question:When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?When shit hit the fan (one two, one two)When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?The ghost of Mandela, hope my flows they propel itLet these words be your earth and moon you consume every messageAs I lead this army make room for mistakes and depressionAnd with that being said my nigga, let me ask this question:When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?Want you look to your left and right, make sure you ask your friendsWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?Do you believe in me? Are you deceiving me?Could I let you down easily, is your heart where it need to be?Is your smile on permanent? Is your vow on lifetime?Would you know where the sermon is if I died in this next line?If I’m tried in a court of law, if the industry cut me offIf the government want me dead, plant cocaine in my carLetras de cancionesWould you judge me a drug kid or see me as K. LamarOr question my character and degrade me on every blogWant you to love me like Nelson, want you to hug me like NelsonI freed you from being a slave in your mind, you’re very welcomeYou tell me my song is more than a song, it’s surely a blessingBut a prophet ain’t a prophet til they ask you this question:When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?Want you look to your left and right, make sure you ask your friendsWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?The ghost of Mandela, hope my flows they propel itLet these words be your earth and moon you consume every messageAs I lead this army make room for mistakes and depressionAnd if you riding with meDo you believe in me? How much you believe in her?You think she gon’ stick around if them 25 years occur?You think he can hold you down when you down behind bars hurt?You think y’all on common ground if you promise to be the first?Can you be immortalised without your life being expired?Even though you share the same blood is it worth the time?Like who got your best interest? Like how much are you dependent?How clutch are the people that say they love you and who pretending?How tough is your skin when they turn you in, do you show forgiveness?What brush do you bend when dusting your shoulders from being offendedWhat kind of den did they put you in when the lions start hissingWhat kind of bridge did they burn, revenge or your mind when it’s mentioned?You wanna love like Nelson, you wanna be like NelsonYou wanna walk in in his shoes but you peace-making seldomYou wanna be remembered that delivered the messageThat considered the blessing of everyone, this your lesson for everyone, sayWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?Want you look to your left and right, make sure you ask your friendsWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?The ghost of Mandela, hope my flows they propel itLet these words be your earth and moon you consume every messageAs I lead this army make room for mistakes and depressionAnd with that being said my nigga, let me ask this question:I been wrote off before, I got abandonment issuesI hold grudges like bad judges, don’t let me resent youThat’s not Nelson-like, want you to love me like NelsonI went to Robben’s Island analysing, that’s where his cell isSo I could find clarity, like how much you cherish meIs this relationship a fake or real as the heavens be?See I got to question it all, family, friends, fans, cats, dogsTrees, plants, grass, how the wind blowMurphy’s Law, generation X, will I ever be your ex?Floss off a baby step, mobbed by the mouth a bitPause, put me under stressCrawled under rocks, ducking y’all, it’s respectBut then tomorrow, put my back against the wallHow many leaders you said you needed then left ‘em for dead?Is it Moses, is it Huey Newton or Detroit Red?Is it Martin Luther, JFK, shooter you assassinIs it Jackie, is it Jesse, oh I know, it’s Michael Jackson, ohWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?That nigga gave us Billie Jean, you say he touched those kids?When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?The ghost of Mandela, hope my flows they propel itLet my word be your earth and moon you consume every messageAs I lead this army make room for mistakes and depressionAnd if you riding with me nigga, let me ask this question nigga"I remember you was conflictedMisusing your influenceSometimes I did the sameAbusing my power, full of resentmentResentment that turned into a deep depressionFound myself screaming in the hotel roomI didn’t wanna self destructThe evils of Lucy was all around meSo I went running for answersUntil I came homeBut that didn’t stop survivor’s guiltGoing back and forth trying to convince myself the stripes I earnedOr maybe how A-1 my foundation wasBut while my loved ones was fighting the continuous war back in the city, I was entering a new oneA war that was based on apartheid and discriminationMade me wanna go back to the city and tell the homies what I learnedThe word was respectJust because you wore a different gang colour than mine'sDoesn’t mean I can’t respect you as a black manForgetting all the pain and hurt we caused each other in these streetsIf I respect you, we unify and stop the enemy from killing usBut I don’t know, I’m no mortal man, maybe I’m just another nigga”Shit and that’s all I wroteI was gonna call it Another Nigga but,it ain’t really a poem,I just felt like it’s something you probably could relate to. Other than that, now that I finally got a chance to holla at you,I always wanted to ask you about a certain situa--,about a metaphor actually, you spoke on the ground.What you mean ‘bout that, what the ground represent?The ground is gonna open up and swallow the evilRightThat’s how I see it, my word is bond.I see and the ground is the symbol for the poor people,the poor people is gonna open up this whole worldand swallow up the rich people. Cause the rich people gonna be so fat,they gonna be so appetising, you know what I’m saying,wealthy, appetising.The poor gonna be so poor and hungry,you know what I’m saying it’s gonna be like…there might be some cannibalism out this mutha, they might eat the richAight so let me ask you this then,do you see yourself as somebody that’s richor somebody that made the best of their own opportunities?I see myself as a natural born hustler,a true hustler in every sense of the word.I took nothin’, I took the opportunities,I worked at the most menial and degrading job and built myself up so I could get it to where I owned it.I went from having somebody manage me to me hiring the person that works my management company.I changed everything I realised my destiny in a matter of five years you know what I’m saying I made myself a millionaire.I made millions for a lot of people now it’s time to make millions for myself,you know what I’m saying.I made millions for the record companies,I made millions for these movie companies, now I make millions for usAnd through your different avenues of success, how would you say you managed to keep a level of sanity?By my faith in God, by my faith in the game,and by my faith in all good things come to those that stay true.You know what I’m saying,and it was happening to me for a reason, you know what I’m saying,I was noticing, shit, I was punching the right buttons and it was happening.So it’s no problem, you know I mean it’s a problem but I’m not finna let them know.I’m finna go straight throughWould you consider yourself a fighter at heartor somebody that only reacts when they back is against the wall?Shit, I like to think that at every opportunityI’ve ever been threatened with resistance it’s been met with resistance. And not only me but it goes down my family tree. You know what I’m saying, it’s in my veins to fight backAight well, how long you think it take before niggas be like,we fighting a war,I’m fighting a war I can’t win and I wanna lay it all downIn this country a black man only have like 5 yearswe can exhibit maximum strength,and that’s right now while you a teenager,while you still strong or while you still wanna lift weights,while you still wanna shoot back.Cause once you turn 30it’s like they take the heart and soul out of a man,out of a black man in this country.And you don’t wanna fight no more. And if you don’t believe me you can look around, you don’t see no loud mouth 30-year old muthafuckasThat’s crazy, because me being one of your offspring of the legacy you left behindI can truly tell you that there’s nothing but turmoil goin’ onso I wanted to ask you what you thinkis the future for me and my generation today?I think that niggas is tired-a grabbin' shit out the storesand next time it’s a riot there’s gonna be bloodshed for real.I don’t think America can know that.I think American think we was just playing and it’s gonna be some more playing but it ain’t gonna be no playing.It’s gonna be murder, you know what I’m saying,it’s gonna be like Nat Turner, 1831, up in this muthafucka.You know what I’m saying, it’s gonna happenThat’s crazy man.In my opinion, only hope that we kinda have left is music and vibrations,lotta people don’t understand how important it is.Sometimes I be like, get behind a micand I don’t know what type of energy I’mma push out, or where it comes from.Trip me out sometimesBecause the spirits, we ain’t really rappin’,we just letting our dead homies tell stories for usDamnI wanted to read one last thing to you.It’s actually something a good friend had wrote describing my world. It says:“The caterpillar is a prisoner to the streets that conceived itIts only job is to eat or consume everything around it, in order to protect itself from this mad cityWhile consuming its environment the caterpillar begins to notice ways to surviveOne thing it noticed is how much the world shuns him, but praises the butterflyThe butterfly represents the talent, the thoughtfulness, and the beauty within the caterpillarBut having a harsh outlook on life the caterpillar sees the butterfly as weak and figures out a way to pimp it to his own benefitsAlready surrounded by this mad city the caterpillar goes to work on the cocoon which institutionalizes himHe can no longer see past his own thoughtsHe’s trappedWhen trapped inside these walls certain ideas start to take roots, such as going home, and bringing back new concepts to this mad cityThe result?Wings begin to emerge, breaking the cycle of feeling stagnantFinally free, the butterfly sheds light on situationsthat the caterpillar never considered, ending the eternal struggleAlthough the butterfly and caterpillar are completely different,they are one and the same."What’s your perspective on that?Pac, Pac, Pac From Letras Mania