Song Lyrics

Warning: Contains Explicit Language.
Bono’s lines are in Bold the rest is sung by Kendrick Lamar except the opening three lines which is sung by an unknown voice.

America, God bless you if it’s good to you
America please take my hand
Can you help me underst- [intro cuts out]

New kung fu Kenny!

Throw a steak off the yacht to a pool full of sharks he’ll take it
Leave him in the wilderness with a sworn nemesis, he’ll make it (He’ll Make it)
Take the gratitude from him, I bet he’ll show you something woah (Woah)
I’ll chip a nigga little bit of nothing
I’ll chip a nigga little bit of nothing
I’ll chip a nigga little bit of nothing
I’ll chip a nigga then throw the blower in his lap.
Walk myself to the court like bitch I did that x-rated
Johnny don’t wanna go to school no more, no more.
Johnny said books ain’t cool no more (No more.)
Johnny wanna be a rapper like his big cousin,
Johnny caught a body yesterday out hustling
God bless America you know we all love him,

Yesterday I got a call like from my dog like 101,
Said they killed his only son because of insufficient funds,
He was sobbing, he was mobbing, way belligerent and drunk,
Talking out his head philosophin’ on what the lord had done,
He said, K-Dot can you pray for me? It’s been a fucked up day for me,
I know that you anointed, show me how to overcome
He was looking for some closure hoping I could bring him closer,
To the spiritual, my spirit do no better but I told him,
I can’t sugar coat the answer for you, this is how I feel,
If somebody kill my son, that mean that somebody’s getting killed
Tell me what you do for love, loyalty and passion of
All the memories collected, moments you could never touch,
I wait in front a niggas spot and watch him hit his block,
I’ll catch a nigga leaving service if that’s all I got,
I’ll chip a nigga then throw the blower in his lap,
Walk myself to the court like, bitch I did that
Ain’t no black power when your baby killed by a coward,
I can’t even keep the peace, don’t you fuck up one of ours,
It be murder in the street, it be bodies in the hour,
Ghetto bird be on the street, paramedics on the dial,
Let somebody touch my momma, touch my sister, touch my woman,
Touch my daddy, touch my niece, touch my nephew, touch my brother,
You should chip a nigga then throw the blower in his lap,
Matter fact, I’m ‘bout to speak at this convention, call you back

Alright kids we’re going to speak about gun control
Pray for me.

It’s not a place,
This country is to be a sound of drum and bass,
You close your eyes to look around

Hail Mary, Jesus and Joseph,
The great American flag is wrapped and dragged with explosives,
Compulsive disorder, sons and daughters,
Barricaded blocks and borders,
Look what you taught us,
It’s murder on my street,
Your street, back streets,
Wall street, corporate offices, banks,
Employees and bosses with homicidal thoughts,
Donald Trump’s in office, we lost Barack and promised to never doubt him again,
But is America honest or do we bask in sin?
Pass the gin, I mix it with American blood,
Then bash him in, you cripping or you married to blood?
I’ll ask again, oops, accident,
It’s nasty when you set us up then roll the dice then bet us up,
You overnight the big rifles then tell Fox to be scared of us,
Gang members or terrorists et cetera et cetera,
Americas reflections of me,
That’s what a mirror does.

It’s not a place,
This country is to be a sound of drum and bass,
You close your eyes to look aro…