XXX. lyrics

America, God bless you if it's good to you

America, please take my hand

Can you help me underst—

New Kung Fu Kenny

Throw a steak off the ark

To a pool full of sharks, he'll take it

Leave him in the wilderness

With a sworn nemesis, he'll make it

Take the gratitude from him

I bet he'll show you somethin', whoa

I'll chip a nigga little bit of nothin'

I'll chip a nigga little bit of nothin'

I'll chip a nigga little bit of nothin'

I'll chip a nigga, then throw the blower in his lap

Walk myself to the court like, "Bitch, I did that!"

X-rated

Johnny don't wanna go to school no mo', no mo'

Johnny said books ain't cool no mo' (no mo')

Johnny wanna be a rapper like his big cousin

Johnny caught a body yesterday out hustlin'

God bless America, you know we all love him

Yesterday I got a call like from my dog like 101

Said they killed his only son because of insufficient funds

He was sobbin', he was mobbin', way belligerent and drunk

Talkin' out his head, philosophin' on what the Lord had done

He said: "K-Dot, can you pray for me?

It been a fucked up day for me

I know that you anointed, show me how to overcome."

He was lookin' for some closure

Hopin' I could bring him closer

To the spiritual, my spirit do know better, but I told him

"I can't sugarcoat the answer for you, this is how I feel:

If somebody kill my son, that mean somebody gettin' killed."

Tell me what you do for love, loyalty, and passion of

All the memories collected, moments you could never touch

I'll wait in front a niggas spot and watch him hit his block

I'll catch a nigga leavin' service if that's all I got

I'll chip a nigga, then throw the blower in his lap

Walk myself to the court like, "Bitch, I did that!"

Ain't no Black Power when your baby killed by a coward

I can't even keep the peace, don't you fuck with one of ours

It be murder in the street, it be bodies in the hour

Ghetto bird be on the street, paramedics on the dial

Let somebody touch my momma

Touch my sister, touch my woman

Touch my daddy, touch my niece

Touch my nephew, touch my brother

You should chip a nigga, then throw the blower in his lap

Matter fact, I'm 'bout to speak at this convention

Call you back—

Alright, kids, we're gonna talk about gun control

(Pray for me) Damn!

It's not a place

This country is to me a sound

Of drum and bass

You close your eyes to look around

Hail Mary, Jesus and Joseph

The great American flag is wrapped in drag with explosives

Compulsive disorder, sons and daughters

Barricaded blocks and borders

Look what you taught us!

It's murder on my street, your street, back streets

Wall Street, corporate offices

Banks, employees, and bosses with

Homicidal thoughts; Donald Trump's in office

We lost Barack and promised to never doubt him again

But is America honest, or do we bask in sin?

Pass the gin, I mix it with American blood

Then bash him in, you Crippin' or you married to blood?

I'll ask again — oops, accident

It's nasty when you set us up

Then roll the dice, then bet us up

You overnight the big rifles, then tell Fox to be scared of us

Gang members or terrorists, et cetera, et cetera

America's reflections of me, that's what a mirror does

It's not a place

This country is to me a sound

Of drum and bass

You close your eyes to look ar—