album cover
Joystice (feat. Macklyn)
7
Hip-Hop/Rap
Joystice (feat. Macklyn) was released on September 7, 2018 by STREETLIGHTS as a part of the album Joy King Supreme
album cover
Release DateSeptember 7, 2018
LabelSTREETLIGHTS
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM95

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Alert312
Alert312
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Aaron Lopez
Aaron Lopez
Composer
Esteban Shedd
Esteban Shedd
Songwriter

Lyrics

I'm a fetus when I'm feeling
I'm a killer when I'm bitter
I'm a sinner when I'm cynical
Psalm Seven Three
Until I went into your presence, Lord
(Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord)
Give me a taste of this real King Justice
I'm a fetus when I'm feeling
I'm a killer when I'm bitter
I'm a sinner when I'm cynical
Psalm Nine Four
Til I went into your presence, Lord
(Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord)
I need a taste of this real king justice
(I called for justice)
(I called for justice, cousin)
(I called for justice)
I called for justice
But the judge was out lunching
Cousin
You was in county
For six and some months and
Benching, crunching, dodging punches
Wasn't never convicted, nothing (nothing)
Jary Session musta' been
Debriefing over something
Or eating at that new Jim Crow
On Cottage Grove
Laughing over egg rolls
Composed, raising their toasts
Check paid by taxpayers on the city's code
(Greed run this whole city!)
(Machine run this whole city!)
And many are the faces
Of the faces we know
That be killers in the images
The press composed
Whether criminal
Collateral, for capital they sold
Corrupt status quo
Privatized system, turn crime into gold
Now that's a capital offense
In the most capital of sense
Got me walking on the fence
Waiting for America to flinch
Gotta admit we all broken
In our image, bearing lens
From our borders to our cells
To our friends
We all got pretense
Prejudice, revenge
And that's a thorn of mine
I'm a fetus when I'm feeling
I'm a killer when I'm bitter
I'm a sinner when I'm cynical
Psalm seven three
Until I went into your presence, Lord
(Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord)
Give me a taste of this real King Justice
I'm a fetus when I'm feeling
I'm a killer when I'm bitter
I'm a sinner when I'm cynical
Psalm Nine Four
Until I went into your presence, Lord
(Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord)
I need a taste of this real King Justice
I call for justice
When Laquan they busted, my cousin
For nothin
Imago Dei make me cousins of cousin, cousin
(I called for justice)
No matter the color
That colors my cousin
Cousin
Is there justice in the middle of this solar solstice?
Forget the justice, with triggers by the poorlice
Hit our streets orphans
Need a leash
Watch your joystick
Playing games in the Chi streets
Lil justice into poetry
And why's it hush from the ministry?
As if privilege ain't a gift to administrate
I protest a silent state
Just as much as what violence makes
For the lives of my Black Kin's fate
We the human race
So, Color me sore
'Til the nations eat joy
The joy-filled Judge serve all my b-boys
I'm a voice
Til' my voice get horse
I'm runnin' 'til my chariot divorce
From the course
And the court house
The judge got a sword
In His mouth
And joy He announce
But vengeance will amount
The account's go unbalanced
When He comes with His sound
I'm a fetus when I'm feelin'
I'm a killer when I'm bitter
I'm a sinner when I'm cynical
Psalm Seven Three
Until I went into your presence, Lord
(Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord)
Give me a taste of this real King Justice
I'm a fetus when I'm feeling
I'm a killer when I'm bitter
I'm a sinner when I'm cynical
Psalm Nine Four
Until I went into your presence, Lord
(Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord)
I need a taste of this real King Justice
(I need a taste of this real King Justice)
(I need a taste of this real King Justice)
I need for Melanie
To broadcast truth with a passion
That's my God-given reaction
Sin calls factions
(now that's the new Adam)
When I'm at home with all men
Amongst all Adams (now that's the new Eve)
Eves in the masses
(Black, brown, white fashion)
Cause Christ make nation
Collages in fashion
(Imago dei, baby)
Hate to the caskets
Blood on our ashes
We the newborn activists
Cross in the crux of theology
Of Joy King practices
Written by: Aaron Lopez, Esteban Shedd
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