Клип Common – Kingdom

Текст песни: [Intro:] Help me get, get the keys to the kingdom! Help me get, get the keys to the kingdom! Oh yes, my Lord! Oh yes, my Lord! [Verse 1: Common] Second row of the church with my hood on, My homie used to rap, he was about to get put on, At his funeral listenin' to this church song, His family yellin' and screamin', I hurt for ‘em. A cold world, that's why we pack heaters, Listenin' to this preacha as he tryna reach us, I'ma need to go back, I gots to get ‘em, Back and forth in these streets, that's the rhythm. Revenge is supposed to be the Lord's but I use my own accord, When I seen him on the porch, cost my man his life, I can't afford not to hit him, Shots rippin' through his True Religion denim, These streets was my religion. I stood over him, his life is over then, Now these keys got me locked up with older men, Thought these was the keys for me to roll a Benz, They ended up bein' the keys for my life to end. [Chorus:] Help me get, get the keys to the kingdom, yeah! Sing! Help me get, get the keys to the kingdom, yeah! And the streets say, Oh yes! And the people say, My Lord! And we all say! And the streets say, Oh yes! And the people say, My Lord! And we all say! [Verse 2: Common] My money ain't straight, my fam ain't straight, Ain't wanna push kis, heaven couldn't wait. I was hurtin', couldn't get no work, You created me from dust, that's why I did dirt. You said that the last shall be first, Now I'm in a hearse, what's this cash really worth? My whole life I had to worry ‘bout eatin', I ain't have time to think about what I believe in. When the days of the kingdom for Chicago gon' come? I'm comin' back like the Prodigal Son, and I got a son, And I don't want my waves followin' him, the streets swallowin' him, And I don't want no hollows in him, his momma said, she see his father in him, Hope it's the good things, till life was over is when I understood things, Standin' at the gates ‘cause I know You've forgiven what I've done, I'm Your son, do I have the keys to get in? [Chorus] [Verse 3: Vince Staples] Sweet Lord Jesus, tell the polices to let a n**ga breathe, My sinnin' father see, got a shipment by the seas, See my n**gas tryna eat, eat whatever's on Your plate, Save some for me; the worst things in life come sittin' six feet, Tryna hop the gate to heaven ‘cause I couldn't get a key, But these n**gas play for keeps and I gotta hold my own, Tryna watch my back ‘cause these stripes ain't free. We still wadin' in the water, cocaine, blunts, marinatin' in the water, Leina took a puff and then she gave it to my father, Used to take the bullets out so I could play with the revolver, Satan serenadin' ever since I was a toddler, Tell ‘em talk is cheap, n**gas livin' for the dollar, So in God we trust, leave the prayin' to my momma, though, Another mothafucka out of control, just walkin' my soles low, Lit up with the abuse, they wasn't for show, I promise every pistol was used, See I was wakin' up afraid to see my name on the news, Broad day barefaced givin' n**gas the blues. N**ga, who you? They know me on the streets where I grew, If you ain't from around here, you get gunned down here, Make the best from the least on the quest for them keys to the kingdom. [Chorus — x3]

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