Sick of Cryin’ Songtext
von Terrace Martin

Unrest in the city
War in the city
Pain in the city
Blood on the ground

But Yahweh′s watching on high
So if the wall breaks, don't trip
You shoulda seen it coming
From a million mile
Poison from your lips

Fed up from the days of just letting it slide
Don′t hit me with the steel
'Cause my skin is dark as tar
It ain't far from the real, real

Piss poor with problems
′Bout to pickpocket people
And my peace pipe ain′t hot
Why they preaching peace by the steeple?


Yeah we practice precaution
'Cause we peep how they peeling
Capture blacks ′til they fascinated
We sing, why we grieving?

Mama say, mama sa
Word to Michael, we dangerous
Run home if you're scared of problems
Can′t dodge 'em, we angels
Evitando la muerte, esperando el cielo
We ain′t frowning, we black and brown
And we crowned with that yellow

Unrest in the city (unrest)
War in the city (it's war)
Pain in the city (pain)
Blood on the ground

They poisoned our organizations
Turned men to boys
Instigated wars on our land with the Navy
Blue or you wet in red laces


You should be proud to rock darker hue
And embrace it
I love the skin that I'm in
And I look like God when I′m naked
Ask my wife

′Cause my skin is dark as tar
It ain't far from the real, real

So if the wall breaks, don′t trip
You shoulda seen it coming
From a million mile
Poison from your lips

Fed up from the days of just letting it slide
Don't hit me with the steel
′Cause my skin is dark as tar
It ain't far from the real, real