Roots Music Report

Credits:

Lyrics

On a ten block walk thru the coldest part of town,
And the laws of my existence just can’t bring me down.

Bad blood flowing from the very nicely stoned,
I’d be a beggar in the streets,
If not for what I own.

Many things I see are comin’,
And they aim to put me down,
But I won’t live on the outskirts,
Just to hang around.

It’s refrigeration, such inclination, intuition,
That’s goin’ down,
Come on y’all, now come on.

But shall I speak
Of the national ninety.

But shall I live,
In exactly all the ways I want to live.

On a ten block stroll thru the roughest side of town,
But the laws of my existence just can’t take me down.

Small taste of the golden life, so far away from home,
I’d be a beggar in the streets,
If not for what I own.

There’s a deeper space that’s coming,
It just doesn’t know where it’s been,
I might find it on a free visit,
But I cannot say just when.

It’s refrigeration, such inclination, intuition,
That’s comin’ down,
Come on y’all, now come on.

You’re takin’ it too hard,
Don’t take it so hard,
Don’t take it that hard.

You’re takin’ it too hard,
Don’t take it so hard,
Don’t take it that hard.

On a ten block walk thru the deepest part of town,
Yeah the laws of my existence, I won’t let ‘em get me down.

Been thru twenty-eight and a half hard knocks, yet my mind ain’t hardly gone,
But I’d be a beggar in the streets,
If not for what I own.

Got a quick look at my impact,
On all the merry fools,
They chased me down the traffic lanes,
With all the laws that they could use.

It’s refrigeration, such inclination, intuition,
That’s goin’ down,
Come on y’all, now come on.