Skip to content

Dna

Popularity ยท Low

YouTube

Searching YouTube...

Lyrics

There I was about less than a year old According to the story that my mother told She couldn't get her little boy to sleep Till my father put that Ronnie Laws record on repeat The beginning of a love affair that I chose To keep hidden till my grandfather exposed The love letters he would find every week And a laugh and a dance and a nod to the beat Like, yep, this one is a leader The first chair drumming tri-tones with the feet up Somebody told me write a rap song turn the beat up I'ma need a, the bomb apple, bomb that Bonita The lunch room table got applause And the teacher in the hall made a call saying y'all need to meet up We all got together in the fall paying d-up It all fell apart when the summertime heat up The otherwise dedicated guys from the lunch line Started looking at me like nah, nevermind Well that's it I can't perform without a line up My brother telling me that I should still sign up He put his money on a studio recording Back then so important even though we didn't know it then So hey brother when the child starts yawning I'ma Play a lullaby and put them headphones on him Back to the program I was born a soul child All my uncles no matter the creed My mama calls me Jason Christopher Madeira Back to the program Yesterday as I recall Never had much All my uncles Meant everything I had Ain't had a dime at the month of nine In my mind I see my mom when I hunt for lines Clutching time at her desk a set at a time When the pennies combined don't add much to a family of five Said I was barely alive, had to bury the knives That cut me out, what you know about carrying lives Out of doubt, need a chance, cause ain't seeing advances My parents stance with these stamps ain't the answer Mama braved through it but her head was pained after Got a brain tumor but they said it ain't cancer Father gave to us the word obey master Honesty and truth are the words that came after Honor for the troops he's a military man Taught the skill of every hand must be paid for or crafted It's in my name why the fame ain't matter It's a family thing being a day old rapper It's the hands that it brings like the saints and old chapters Together it's saint with the paintings in old chapels Press on the ink I'm playing these old samples Blessings that link old days to new sad ones Happy to have them saving my thoughts From the day that they bought that album and gave me that box I was playing the king of rock like the king of the block Not knowing they saved a lot for the things that I got Back to the program I was born a soul child All my uncles no matter the creed My mama calls me Jason Christopher Madeira Back to the program Yesterday as I recall Never had much All my uncles Meant everything I had