Music Video

El Michels Affair & Black Thought - Grateful - Live at Diamond Mine
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
El Michels Affair
El Michels Affair
Ensemble
Black Thought
Black Thought
Vocals
Leon Michels
Leon Michels
Band Leader
Shabba Ranks
Shabba Ranks
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Leon Michels
Leon Michels
Songwriter
Tarik Trotter
Tarik Trotter
Songwriter
Paul Spring
Paul Spring
Songwriter
Homer Steinweiss
Homer Steinweiss
Songwriter
Nick Movshon
Nick Movshon
Songwriter
Cleveland Browne
Cleveland Browne
Songwriter
Rexton Gordon
Rexton Gordon
Songwriter
Greville Gordon
Greville Gordon
Songwriter
Wycliffe Johnson
Wycliffe Johnson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Leon Michels
Leon Michels
Producer
Alex DeTurk
Alex DeTurk
Mastering Engineer
Jens Jungkurth
Jens Jungkurth
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Three for the money, two for the hustle and one for the Nighttime spread over the city like a comforter Prime time for the predators who come to hunt for the chumps Carryin' them high note like a trumpeter They shoot as strength as arrows and run through the shadows As sons of a gun or dirty young caballeros With marks on they collars where they hung from the gallows Their lust for the dollars keep 'em red like the tarots Makin' fiends, influencin' people, Dale Carnеgies With big dreams to get rich quick that fail horribly Now thеy play the avenue of Amsterdam With other pickpockets and thieves and gambling mans And they just come at all the noodles where resistance is futile Business as usual to blow out your wig like French Poodles Never-endin' pursuit of the American dream Winner takes everything is still a regular theme, listen Ayo, one for the will of man, two for the kilogram Three for the cold killer who can still be a millionaire Fillin' the Frigidaire, big plates and silverware Where everybody eat except the one who was ill-prepared Due to circumstances, there's no more chances We was raised by wolves, grizzly bears, and panthers It's wild, yo, I'm surprised we ain't grown no antlers The whole house is fucked like Jo Jo Dancers It's hopeless to drift into a deep psychosis Do the most for just another bleak prognosis Out of respect for the dead, the names is changed When whoopie pie lit in his wig, his aim was flames If one thing them young boys not playin' his games Now that'll teach an old-timer how to stay in his lane I guess the moral of the story is Any sip you pour me is a toast to the warriors Who bit the dust before me, kid Be grateful
Writer(s): Tarik Trotter, Nick Movshon, Homer Steinweiss, Rexton Gordon, Greville Gordon, Wycliff Johnson, Cleveland Browne, Paul Spring, Leon Michels Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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