Loaded Hearts

Song: Loaded Hearts

Album: Lesser Restoration

Artist: Toussaint Morrison

Written by: Toussaint Morrison

Released: February 10, 2017

ref: https://open.spotify.com/album/3TEcNrBZyU7EZJuzkPBOcn

Chorus

Javelins flyin’ overhead, overhead, overhead

Attack of the clones bred from the same venom

Defendin’ a throne for an honor lost in it

You want me, you can go ahead, go ahead, go ahead

I made my peace with the past, lord willin’

But the future, future, future

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Coroner, judge, bank and jury

It’s all the same to me, it’s all game to me, customer service

Loaded hearts, black minds

I’m about it I was born into that life

Now, how they expect me to be chill when there’s prison blocks they wanna keep filled

Handcuffs they been waitin’ to refill and black bodies that they wanna keep still

Nah. You wanna advertise butterflies in a glass jar

I’d rather lose face, keep my skin and freedom standin’ on Gray Skull

Naaaah, you mufuckas don’t know me. Why you wanna act like it?

Teach me my history and let me celebrate it like you authorized it

Cut off the tragedy and accountability from the timeline and cauterized it

Green lightin’ the rewrite you rewrote, but we both know I’m the author of my shit

Yeaaaah, a threat to all you know and love

Simply by turnin’ oxygen in to C-O-Dub

Aire to the throne of Latveria

And born on a waiting list of Deathrow America with

Chorus

I could be sittin’ with Lauryn Hill singin’ “It could all be so simple”

Or whisperin’ sweet nothins to girls I ain’t even into

But I made a promise to my grandma, that I’d keep it trill

So my lane is only for my fans, my people, my work with or without the wheels

I push it like bad policies, religion, refinance and revolvin’ doors

But pushin’ ain’t a problem even if the wheels ain’t on’em. Hold up! Hoverboard!

But see me in my city where disparity thrives and livin’ while black is little more a social crime

Rock n roll on life support screamin’, “Life is short”. I’m from where hip-hop goes to die

Negative fucks, +1 Shield

I walk the day, I run the night, I’m a bonafide stone cold Dunpeal

Hit it. Wanna entertain I don’t come real

I don’t walk the house, I don’t run the field. Please believe, boy, I run fields!

Get it? Hell is relative to where you from

Rookies thinkin’ that they got a cure with the holy gun

But I see with my Buena vista from Doomstadt

It’s still black and white with old money and new traps with

Chorus