| There’s something in the water
|
| And everything we spit wet
|
| They keep telling me it’s something in the water
|
| And I ‘em they ain’t really seen shit yet
|
| It’s something in the water
|
| Born bright but the light bent brilliant
|
| Bay boys been above the wave
|
| ‘bout business and banks and straight off the building
|
| I’m feeling myself
|
| And numb to the rest
|
| Dumb is a choice
|
| When the world go blind and deaf
|
| Got my ASL co-sign, thank you Maria
|
| Never claimed a gang but it’s dope watching homies
|
| Twist fingers when I pull up
|
| Stylish, got my NY stylist
|
| See me on TV in Comme de Garçons
|
| Soon as it wrap I am back in my Warriors
|
| Cap on a flight back home
|
| And my home holler «go boy, get it, just please don’t forget us»
|
| And I sandwich time tryna get this lettuce
|
| Couldn’t stand with my grandmother Jessie
|
| She took her last breath, I was on set doing hella extra
|
| Look at the desert we made
|
| And everybody know its, nowhere else to go, so it’s home
|
| Look at the desert we made
|
| And can’t nobody see the way it used to be
|
| It’s something in the water
|
| And everything we think wet
|
| They keep telling me it’s something in the water
|
| And I tell ‘em they ain’t even had a drink yet
|
| It’s something in the water
|
| Swam out from a town that was drowning
|
| Came back with a bucket and a bullhorn
|
| And people act like I’m the only nigga shouting
|
| The rush for the land is loud
|
| And every other voice drowned out
|
| People dog-paddle just to stay above it
|
| While there’s new money laughing, yelling «who let the dogs out?»
|
| And I bite vicious, but their chains tight
|
| And the oak trees traded for shade from the high rise
|
| And the eyes might not adjust to the new light hue
|
| Swear it used to be a black town
|
| Chinaka laid my career with those words
|
| Her back is stronger than mine
|
| Maybe she’ll give our city the height it deserves
|
| I am just a wrecking light now
|
| Honestly, it’s too much on me, I can’t see the road up ahead
|
| Homies say I should buy Cartiers
|
| But they won’t keep the salt out, think I should get goggles instead
|
| Look at the desert we made
|
| And everybody knows it, nowhere else to go, so it’s home
|
| Look at the desert we made
|
| And can’t nobody see the way it used to be
|
| Look at the desert we made
|
| And everybody knows it, nowhere else to go, so it’s home
|
| Look at the desert we made
|
| And can’t nobody see the way it used to be
|
| So they keep saying
|
| It’s something in the water
|
| And everything we own wet
|
| They keep telling me it’s something in the water
|
| I can tell that they are gearing up to go get a piece
|
| Lakeshore or the Bottoms
|
| Uptown Temescal and the problem is
|
| Half of these neighborhoods didn’t exist before
|
| You felt a drip and got thirsty there’s something in the water
|
| Look at the desert we made
|
| Where money sucks everything dry
|
| Where culture is liquid and currently in short supply
|
| Where what we once called a community suddenly gets monetized
|
| And once again soil is tilled on our backs
|
| Just when we thought we were out
|
| When picking cotton becomes cottonmouth
|
| Look at the desert they called it a drought but
|
| There’s something in the water
|
| And everybody wanna taste
|
| Rolled in on the high tide
|
| And now the sandcastle’s erased
|
| There’s something in the water
|
| And the well’s dried up
|
| But we at the function double cupping like we don’t give a fuck
|
| And there’s something in the water
|
| Look at the desert we made
|
| And everybody knows it, nowhere else to go
|
| So it’s home |