Oh Well Songtext
von KnowMads

Well Its the hip, its the hop
Its the dip, its the wop
Its the shit that we talk
Its the pick, its the lock
Its the kids on the blocks
With their hands in their pockets
And their souls in their socks
Its the crack, its the rock
Its the failure to talk
With the moms and the pops
Its the access to glocks
That make them snap back and cock
Its the straight way to the top
They raised to take aim at cops
While the people that can make a difference
Place blame and watch
Well Its a never ending vicious cycle
Quick to bite you back If you ain′t watching yours
Your not of course conscious to this fact
That we lack a certain third eye to see that power sells
Just 3 oblivious idiots barely cracked the outer shell
Its the sour smell
Of poverty while flossing bosses pass and go
And collect from these monopolies
Complex like astrology but I know inside of me
Even I got the will to be committing armed robberies
So I reach to god, helplessly
But we ain't spoken since I was forced to go to church
And stand behind my picket fence
To everyone its just myst and smoke that hocus pocus shit
Call me a hypocrite but at least I notice it
Too many people are scared to address the problems
Take a guess, its cause only have the populations got ′em
So my heart stays throbbing for these people left in coffins
Six feet deep in the streets, that's rock bottom


Well Its the hip, its the hop
Its the dip, its the wop
Its the shit that we talk
Its the pick, its the lock
Its the kids on the blocks
With their hands in their pockets
And their souls in their socks
Its the crack, its the rock
Its the failure to talk
With the moms and the pops
Its the access to glocks
That make them snap back and cock
Its a straight way to the top
They raised to take aim at cops
While the people that can make a difference
Place blame and watch

Its the bullshit, drama, everybody frontin'
Always saying something but they never doing nothing
Its the five year old child in Uganda with a problem
While you smoking marijuana and pretending that you got ′em
Its the sunrise, and the sunset
Its the standards that they set that make you settle for less
Its the cigarette stress sagging glaze of a store clerk
Tryna get paid to replace his kids torn shirt
But oh well, its tomorrow the day
And don′t you know he went and drank his daughters dollars away?
Now he's sitting on a cop car, sippin′ off a Rockstar
Mixed with some Monarch
But that's not our problem
We got our lives to live and what we doing right now
Effects the lives of our kids
I′m just tryna be happy I ain't tryna be rich
But if you don′t make sense then you ain't worth shit kid
Well Its the hip, its the hop
Its the dip, its the wop
Its the shit that we talk
Its the pick, its the lock
Its the kids on the blocks
With their hands in their pockets
And their souls in their socks
Its the crack, its the rock
Its the failure to talk
With the moms and the pops
Its the access to glocks
That make them snap back and cock
Its a straight way to the top
They raised to take aim at cops
While the people that can make a difference
Place blame and watch
Its the alcohol addiction and the marijuana smoke
Its the nights when I'm holding tokes sayin I wanna joke
Its the girls
The broken relations that we be facing
Of music making, I ain′t amused by any faking
While many blatant, they sitting waiting, procrastinating
I′m meditating, and navigatin', through Satan
While y′all be moving the rhythms without a vision
Dismissin' what you were given for your living
That ain′t the biz
But are you sitting a victim will have you risen
My brother said that once he was in prison
That's when he listened
So I envision that living condition image
I′m sitting, and I'm repenting any blemish until I finish
I drink the water from the fountain of life, replenish
I'm thinking father in the town when the lights diminish
Hoping we don′t get stuck with our hands up
But if we do then we wave ′em to the anthem
Well Its the hip, its the hop
Its the dip, its the wop
Its the shit that we talk
Its the pick, its the lock
Its the kids on the blocks
With their hands in their pockets
And their souls in their socks
Its the crack, its the rock
Its the failure to talk
With the moms and the pops
Its the access to glocks
That make them snap back and cock
Its a straight way to the top
They raised to take aim at cops
While the people that can make a difference
Place blame and watch
And oh well
Oh well
And oh well
Oh well