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Текст песни The Last Emperor - Prisoner

The Last Emperor - Prisoner слова песни

[Chorus - X3 w/ variations]I`m just a prisoner, ohh noo(I`m just)[Verse 1]Young man stepping off an uptown trainGround still wet from the cold hard rainLiving in the city, know the streets by nameTake a walk with me, come and feel my painSee what I see, come and get my glimpseDig a little deeper that the media clipsUnderneath strugglers and the hardshipsTwo bit hustlers, big time pimpsNow look at little Mike, I heard he lost his dadDrank a lot of liquor, made his liver turn badNow I see him out there serving that YacWill he even live to be a high school grad?But see that lady named old Ms. GivensWho used to serve lunch to the homeless childrenWorked a lot of overtime, still got evictedSpent her last dollar on a lottery ticketI witness this from behind my gatesTotally determined to decide my fateFood for thought when I`m saying my graceI wonder if I ever will escape this place[Chorus] X2[Verse 2]Now I done seen a lot of things in this townCry me a river like the tears of a clownMade me familiar with the sites and soundsTo hit ya with the rhythm so you gotta get downShake off the blues to forget my pastForget that I`m a prisoner but still I`m trappedStack a little cash, have a little stashYou either rich or poor, ain`t no middle classMan I`m trying to get it any way I chooseCome around the way and walk a day in my shoesSame neighborhood where I paid my duesAnd you can see the homies on the late night newsWhy they out thugging trying to fire them gunsDon`t the realize that they mama`s need sonsAbusing their lives like it`s gotta be doneYoung black male that society shunsIf everything we do is so clean and so freshThen why have we become such a people oppressedYou say you don`t care, hate it you I guessIt`s a living nightmare, but its where I rest[Chorus] X2[Verse 3]Now prison is a place full of cold hard factsWhere even the innocent might get trappedRun down housing overcome by crackThe teachers can`t even get a good contractIf it ain`t the cats doing they hard bidsOr the mama`s out working on the graveyard shiftsIf it ain`t the artists who display our giftsThen tell me who the hell is gonna save our kidsPreacher man tell me, can it get any worse?Don`t the Lord love us, are we really just cursed?With the hunger and thrist while I`m saying my graceI pray for the day we can escape this placeYeah[Chorus] repeat w/ variations

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