Sonnet To My Idol lyrics

by

Rudy Ray Moore


[Verse 1]
Someone said you have talent
But you are abusing it
I say, what good is talent
If you're not using it?
I'll just express myself
In my soul sort of way
Hoping you sophisticated motherf*ckers
Hear what I have to say

[Verse 2]
Soul is not something you have
It's something you be
It's all over your body and face
For everyone to see
So if you are soul
You don't have to ask me

[Verse 3]
Take a poor black man
He'll put his ass on a shelf
He just a poor black man
And nobody else
He'll tell you exactly how he feel
And don't hold a f*cking thing back
Right down sh*tty
And that's his act
He won't hold a grudge
For days and days
He'll just call you a low-life motherf*cker
And talk about your funky ways
Or he'll cut you off your ass
And if that won't do
He'll check out your mammy, your pappy,
Your brother, and your sister too
Now when this black man gets mad
I'll tell you no lie
Believe me
This black man, he ready to die
He'll f*ck up you and yours
And anything that gets in his way
And don't give a damn
What no son of a b*tch has to say
sh*t on the birthday cake
p*ss in the punch
He ready to fight you motherf*ckers
One by one all in a bunch
sh*t
He won't run
Be ready for his ass
To even up the fun
Go to the courthouse
And if that won't do
f*ck with the judge
And jury too
Do his time
Like a natural man
Come back and join society
As best he can
Accept your leadings
Cause that's all you'll give
Tell her you "let me live, baby
Let me live"
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