XXX. (Clean)

XXX. (Clean) - Kendrick Lamar (肯德里克·拉馬爾)/U2

Written by：K. Duckworth/M. Williams II/D. Natche/M. Spears/Anthony Tiffith/P. Hewson/D. Evans/A. Clayton/L Mullen

America god bless you if it's good to you

America please take my hand

Can you help me underst

Throw a steak off the yacht 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 something woah

I'll chip a ni**a little bit of nothin'

I'll chip a ni**a little bit of nothin'

I'll chip a ni**a little bit of nothin'

I'll chip a ni**a then throw the blower in his lap

Walk myself to the court like b**ch I did that x rated

Johnny don't wanna go to school no more no more

Johnny said books ain't cool no more no more

Johnny wanna be a rapper like his big cousin

Johnny caught a body yesterday out hustling

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 philosphin' on what the lord had done

He said k dot can you pray for me

It's been a f**ked 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 no better but I told him

I can't sugar coat the answer for you this is how I feel

If somebody kill my son that mean that somebody's gettin' killed

Tell me what you do for love loyalty and passion of

All the memories collected moments you could never touch

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

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

I'll chip a ni**a then throw the blower in his lap

Walk myself to the court like b**ch 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 f**k with one of ours

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

Ghetto bird 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 ni**a then throw the blower in his lap

Matter fact I'm 'bout to speak at this convention call you back

It's not a place

This country is to be a sound of drum and bass

You close your eyes to look around

Hail Mary Jesus and Joseph

The great American flag is wrapped and dragged with explosives

Compulsive disorder sons and daughters

Barricaded blocks and borders

Look what you taught us

It's murder on my street

Y'all 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

Americas reflections of me

That's what a mirror does

It's not a place

This country is to be a sound of drum and bass

You close your eyes to look around