Black Sunday

[Chorus: Organized Konfusion] Lord, help me out now We gotta get together We gotta organize No matter the weather It's a Black Sunday, hey [Verse 1: Pharoahe Monch] I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church For her soul, she would search Five years later now I'm off to work In a department store, I'm foldin' pants and shirts At the end of the week, Lord Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet That's when I made a promise to my mama, I said "I bet ya you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma Be kickin' that phat funk shit Black, mackadocious, speakers in the back trunk shit" 'Cause the boss is bossing me, that's costing me To miss classes and I feel he's forcing me To be a jackass in the future Then who's gonna shoot ya? At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes Instead of doing crimes 1986 to 1989 Organized Konfusion did not get signed But we will soon one day Until then, I return at twelve noon on the track, Black Sunday [Chorus: Organized Konfusion] Lord, help me out now We gotta get together We gotta organize No matter the weather It's a Black Sunday, hey [Verse 2: Prince Po] Yeah, remember losing a loved one, Lord help us to make it over Delete the pork, cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda We came a long way and I'm still runnin' for my freedom Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the Crack vials, so, you can feed that baby I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady A year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch And Tystick was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes And Mrs. J cooked dinner, then we came into same hard times Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape The state of mind I was in since Paul C died is that I gotta get mines, representin' 40 Projects So I'm all-in, gotta make papes and all that Close my own record deal 'cause I can't fall for that Old snake shit, hissin' in the grass For the cash, little sis needs tuition, listen If you're missin' my money, my fist you will be kissin' Damn, I don't even understand [Chorus: Organized Konfusion] Lord, help me out now We gotta get together We gotta organize No matter the weather It's a Black Sunday [Outro] Check it out Like to say what's up to my whole herd Like to say rest in peace to my man Dalou And rest in peace to my man Juice Three strikes