Black Hand Side

(album: W.A.R. (We Are Renegades) - 2011)

[Phonte:]
I say open the door, let me in
Teach us all, preach ya sins
Turn the cheek, let it slide
Give me five on the black hand side
The black hand side, oh
Oh, oh the black hand side
The black hand side, oh

[Styles P:]
Give me five on the black hand side
I'll tell you what I see through the black men's eyes
Fly chick, in the Cadillac a black man rides
But every different day a different black man dies
Shawty momma tripping off a crack, mad high
Now you're watching TV, loving the bad guys
Piss-poor with the Welfare check, you know we're African
Cause we ain't get help here yet, no help
Now he puts down his knapscak, Got a crack pack
You don't overstand if your vision ain't abstract
Me and the projects, a lot of us is lab rats
Voted for Obama, hoping he wouldn't have that; don't have that brotha
Now I can tell you that I felt that, I felt it
I still remember how the cell smells
I still remember how the pigs at
Family crime up on the B.I. couldn't dig that
Open the door and teach your soul
Passing the blunt around, and hoping to reach his soul
Now give me five on the black hand side
Ghost to Pharoahe Monch watch the black man ride

[Phonte:]
I say open the door, let me in
Teach us all, preach ya sins
Turn the cheek, let it slide
Give me five on the black hand side
The black hand side, oh
Oh, oh the black hand side
The black hand side, oh

[Pharoahe Monch:]
Pharoahe's a Navajo chief, the way I'm making it rain
But never for a stripper with emotional pain
You wouldn't despite system nourishment for the brain
Cause rain plus soil equal fruits and grains
My hood told a nigga: keep it simple and plain
Let me explain the game, break it down a couple levels like Tetris
These young'ns kill they own blood for a necklace
Leave slumped over the wheel of your Lexus
Smoke kush, wake up and eat breakfast
What the fuck he expect
A generation overly obsessed with mobsters
Our revolutionaries won Grammys and Oscars
Impostors, fake auras and weak chakras
Making a mockery of the music to be pop stars
And they say I'm insane because I see the remains of the whips and chains
In my hood where it ain't all good
Peep the pain of a single mother, she struggling
Young child slain
Give me five on the black hand side
Let's maintain like it's Soul Train keep and move it together
I'm saying

[Phonte:]
I say open the door, let me in
Teach us all, preach ya sins
Turn the cheek, let it slide
Give me five on the black hand side
The black hand side, oh
Oh, oh the black hand side
The black hand side, oh