|
(Hook) |
|
Georgia, The clay is runnin red |
|
From the blood that done been shed down in |
|
Gergia, Now we weepin to the sound |
|
from the color of the ground down in |
|
|
|
(V1 - Kno) |
|
Georgia, My state my home |
|
For 17 years learned right from wrong |
|
Cried saline tears when i write these poems |
|
As I made these fears give flight to song |
|
The red clay stains the soles of my shoes |
|
The red clay stained the soul of a fool |
|
My grandparents told me the goal that you choose |
|
When you realize the worlds only open to few |
|
Will measure your worth, tether your hurt |
|
Its that same search that can lead you to church |
|
But if they have the time to hate a whole race |
|
How do yall have the time to tel me about my faith? |
|
Do ya'll have time to discuss God's grace |
|
If youre too busy studying the color of a face? |
|
I don't follow man to avoid the disgrace of |
|
the closeminded culprits of southern mistakes |
|
Glass houses built out of empty Coke bottles |
|
Throwing rocks at statues of southern role models |
|
Use to be followed by souls that are hollow |
|
But had to much love to ever get swalloed |
|
By the dark hearted people that threatened my kin |
|
Spit on my friends for the color of their skin |
|
So when i think back to the clay that raised me |
|
I thank God for the strong man it made me |
|
|
|
(V2 - Natti) |
|
Georgia Lee Andrews, raised a man wearin dad's pants plus her shoes |
|
Never wavered in faith in her lovin embrace |
|
That Garnett Lamar Bush would find a way to be great |
|
Even after plenty meals off juvy hall plates |
|
Calls at prison rates, pushed back release dates |
|
Only to come home to mere months of your smile |
|
While the nigga you married to give me a dad behave foul |
|
Your massive stroke one of luck for him |
|
Kept the house, bought a car and a truck for him |
|
Loved my brother too much to go and orphan him |
|
So his daddy walks this earth the only man I hate |
|
With the bitch he moved in a week after your wake |
|
Sure as Georgia birthed me, in Kentucky my state |
|
Seem empty, without you holding your grandson |
|
Who smiles at your picture, not a tooth in his mouth |
|
So handsome, you'da had him like mile left out |
|
You'da swore I had asthma as my breath came out |
|
Missing you, feeling like the Lord did me bad |
|
But somewhat greater later when he made me dad |
|
Bittersweet symphony simply played in pain |
|
Encored by the tears that I strain to contain |
|
But sometimes I can't help it, sometimes I'm so selfish |
|
Feeling like God dont love you like I do |
|
Georgia |