American Hunger (The Last Supper) - MF Grimm

Born in America, land of the free

For the right price, that’s how it will be

I know my existence is really political

Slipped through the cracks from the era selling crack

Murders, put in jail, still didn’t crack

Shot up, paralyzed, bullet in my back

Brain power, made dough, it didn’t hold me back

Pain’s joy, hit song, didn’t hold back

It rained blood, can’t front, didn’t hold back

Last meal, dinner served, didn’t hold back

About to leave music, film is where it’s at

Plus radio’s suckers never play me

FCC listens and wanna slay me

If you want Hot 97, don’t say me

No payola, so they hate me

The DJs are scared and they’re motherfucking shaky

The white people who own it, they act real snaky

I dwell in the underground, the fan base who make me

Fuck commercial radio.

They can’t break me

Shots fired, God had to kill me to awake me

I learn patience as I wait for him to take me

I learn patience as I wait for him to take me

As I learn about life, I get stronger

Thanks for getting American Hunger