
Pulitzer prize-winning artist Kendrick Lamar witnessed his first gun murder outside his parents’ apartment building as a kindergartener. As a young man he announced his arrival on a B-Side single with a throwaway line: ‘All I have in life is my new appetite for failure.’ His flow often resides in the gritty side of humanity that everyone on a spiritual path recognizes as the ground of acceptance. His lyrics are couched in honesty about his mental health and his introspective nature into the evil that resides in each human heart. In tracks like Alright, Lamar expounds his eloquence of societal injustice; here specifically, he asks, what kind of society would we have if the promise of ’40 acres and mule’ had been the ‘reconstruction’ that actually happened? And where do we go from here?
Alls my life I has to fight, nigga
Alls my life I
Hard times like, yah!
Bad trips like, yah!
Nazareth, I’m fucked up
Homie, you fucked up
But if God got us then we gon’ be alright
Nigga, we gon’ be alright
Nigga, we gon’ be alright
We gon’ be alright
Do you hear me, do you feel me? We gon’ be alright
Nigga, we gon’ be alright
Huh? We gon’ be alright
Nigga, we gon’ be alright
Do you hear me, do you feel me? We gon’ be alright
Uh, and when I wake up
I recognize you’re lookin’ at me for the pay cut
But homicide be looking at you from the face down
What MAC-11 even boom with the bass down
Schemin’! And let me tell you bout my life
Painkillers only put me in the twilight
Where pretty pussy and Benjamin is the highlight
Now tell my mama I love her but this what I like
Lord knows, twenty of ’em in my Chevy
Tell ’em all to come and get me, reapin’ everything I sow
So my karma come in heaven, no preliminary hearings on my record
I’m a motherfucking gangster in silence for the record, uh
Tell the world I know it’s too late
Boys and girls, I think I gone cray
Drown inside my vices all day
Won’t you please believe when I say
Wouldn’t you know
We been hurt, been down before, nigga
When our pride was low
Lookin’ at the world like, “Where do we go, nigga?”
And we hate po-po
Wanna kill us dead in the street for sure, nigga
I’m at the preacher’s door
My knees gettin’ weak and my gun might blow
But we gon’ be alright
Nigga, we gon’ be alright
Nigga, we gon’ be alright
We gon’ be alright
Do you hear me, do you feel me? We gon’ be alright
Nigga, we gon’ be alright
Huh? We gon’ be alright
Nigga, we gon’ be alright
Do you hear me, do you feel me? We gon’ be alright
What you want you, a house? You, a car?
40 acres and a mule? A piano, a guitar?
Anything, see my name is Lucy, I’m your dog
Motherfucker, you can live at the mall
I can see the evil, I can tell it I know when it’s illegal
I don’t think about it, I deposit every other zero
Thinkin’ of my partner put the candy, paint it on the regal
Diggin’ in my pocket ain’t a profit, big enough to feed you
Everyday my logic, get another dollar just to keep you
In the presence of your chico ah!
I don’t talk about it, be about it, everyday I see cool
If I got it then you know you got it, Heaven, I can reach you
Pat Dawg, Pat Dawg, Pat Dawg, my dog, that’s all
Bick back and Chad, I trap the bag for y’all
I rap, I black on track so rest assured
My rights, my wrongs, I write ’til I’m right with God
Vanessa, I’m continually impressed by your updated take on this blog. Thank you for this wonderful vehicle of expression.
Thanks Kim. I’m glad you’re enjoying the reads.