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DAMN. COLLECTORS EDITION.

XXX. (Feat. U2)

Kendrick Lamar XXX. (Feat. U2) - DAMN. COLLECTORS EDITION.
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"America, God bless you if it's good to youAmerica, please take my handCan you help me understNew Kung Fu KennyThrow a steak off the arkTo a pool full of sharks, he'll take itLeave him in the wildernessWith a sworn nemesis, he'll make itTake the gratitude from himI bet he'll show you somethin', whoaI'll chip a nigga little bit of nothin'I'll chip a nigga little bit of nothin'I'll chip a nigga little bit of nothin'I'll chip a nigga, then throw the blower in his lapWalk myself to the court like, ""Bitch, I did that!""X-ratedJohnny don't wanna go to school no mo', no mo'Johnny said books ain't cool no mo' (no mo')Johnny wanna be a rapper like his big cousinJohnny caught a body yesterday out hustlin'God bless America, you know we all love himYesterday I got a call like from my dog like 101Said they killed his only son because of insufficient fundsHe was sobbin', he was mobbin', way belligerent and drunkTalkin' out his head, philosophin' on what the Lord had doneHe said: ""K-Dot, can you pray for me?It been a fucked up day for meI know that you anointed, show me how to overcome.""He was lookin' for some closureHopin' I could bring him closerTo the spiritual, my spirit do know better, but I told him""I can't sugarcoat the answer for you, this is how I feel:If somebody kill my son, that mean somebody gettin' killed.""Tell me what you do for love, loyalty, and passion ofAll the memories collected, moments you could never touchI'll wait in front a niggas spot and watch him hit his blockI'll catch a nigga leavin' service if that's all I gotI'll chip a nigga, then throw the blower in his lapWalk myself to the court like, ""Bitch, I did that!""Ain't no Black Power when your baby killed by a cowardI can't even keep the peace, don't you fuck with one of oursIt be murder in the street, it be bodies in the hourGhetto bird be on the street, paramedics on the dialLet somebody touch my mamaTouch my sister, touch my womanTouch my daddy, touch my nieceTouch my nephew, touch my brotherYou should chip a nigga, then throw the blower in his lapMatter fact, I'm 'bout to speak at this conventionCall you back? Alright, kids, we're gonna talk about gun control(Pray for me) Damn!It's not a placeThis country is to me a sound of drum and bassYou close your eyes to look aroundHail Mary, Jesus and JosephThe great American flag is wrapped and dragged with explosivesCompulsive disorder, sons and daughtersBarricaded blocks and bordersLook what you taught us!It's murder on my street, your street, back streetsWall Street, corporate officesBanks, employees, and bosses withHomicidal thoughts; Donald Trump's in officeWe lost Barack and promised to never doubt him againBut is America honest, or do we bask in sin?Pass the gin, I mix it with American bloodThen bash him in, you Crippin' or you married to blood?I'll ask again ? oops, accidentIt's nasty when you set us upThen roll the dice, then bet us upYou overnight the big rifles, then tell Fox to be scared of usGang members or terrorists, et cetera, et ceteraAmerica's reflections of me, that's what a mirror does It's not a placeThis country is to me a sound of drum and bassYou close your eyes to look ar-"