Resurrection Day

[Verse 1: junclassic]
Grew in poverty
Great Depression stressing the economy
His father made a martyr outta honesty
Said son…
“Only way to stay out the slum
Is by the way of the gun
One wave and ya done”
Youngin’ knew a rich woman
But the lady ain’t help him
Ran wit’ The Tape Bandits
Baby Face Nelson
Did robberies
Nelson caught a body and laughed
Pop was sloppy
Got hit by a shotty and passed
Wit no Mommy
Fate made him a ward of the State
He escaped a foster home
As sweat poured from his face
Had to steal to eat
And got down with a gang
Grabbed a gun and fell in love
With the sound of the Bang
Rose through the criminal ranks
With brazen acts
Never did a bid the kid
Kept his game intact
And that made him legendary
And a boss in some rough towns
Many cemeteries
Raised their cost when he touched down

[Verse 2: PremRock]
He passed his trees off to his man
Blade in hand, pleading like Brooks Hatlen is a reasonable man
We all bleeding fam
He spoke between Pall Mall’s
Now tell your story walking planting seeds in the Sudan
It’s whether or not you choose to fasten the clot
Stands to reason
Only one of us is leaving with achieving their plan
Thickening agents for the plot
And it’s often all for naught
Speak your piece or kick rocks
Left a trail of broken hearts, smoking guns and picked locks
On the road to perdition probably held up the liquor spot
Got his loving on the run
No need for hurdles up
Spilled milk ain’t a tragedy ‘cause it tends to curdle up
Never trust a man so willing to grant a favor…
And never leave that phaser on stun
Come for the benediction
But you’re stayin’ for the show
And you purchase for the purpose but you’re paying for the glow…
Traveling medicine show
Sipping on Old Crow, adage age old
DT couldn't handle the caseload
He did it for the pesos
Revolver in the trench like - “Don’t nobody move until I say yooooo…”
I was born like this
Sight’s on won’t miss
Light’s on don’t switch
Is this mic on? shit
Torpedoes be damned I’ma light that wick
You can fight back if you want you better bite that lip

[Verse 3: Warren Britt]
Waking up at five he
Get to work at eight
Just to get ate by eight different parts of his plate
This is great
He don't see no escape
The bills late always
Plus he gotta tell this to his date, who he hate
Showered in sour grapes and spilled milk
Got him feeling like the bride at the start of Kill Bill
Will feel victorious one of these days
Baby say he got a baby on the way
Is it mine?
Is it his?
It is what it is, getting pushed out the place that he lived since a kid
And he still gets piss from the pigs when he gives
To the city and the state just to fix up their crib

[Verse 4: Urban Miracle]
It is what it is
It what it was
He says you make moves
But the result ain't up to us
Can't give up
Gotta keep it motoring right
Faith in God and the plan
Stay holding him tight
And He see the prize all in sight
Within his grasp
Gorilla arms with monkey wrench
Right up in his plans
It's just him
Trying to advance
Sick of nothing but lint
In the pockets of his pants
But each scheme
Meets its end by ironic means
It’s hard to keep the faith
When you on a losing team
Can't lose the dream
If needs a re-work
Don't fall for reactions like a knee jerk
Consider it the rebirth
A re-cert
He keeps forward, never revert
Sometimes it's new lessons for the teacher
In defeat it’s a form of grace
Follow suit
If it's brief
Solve the case
He makes moves
Avoiding buffoons
He the rusty fork
Wanting the silver spoon
Soon
A jester to a grand imperial
From the condemned to a miracle