Black Sunday Lyrics - Singles - Organized Konfusion

Lawd, help me out now 

We gotta get together, we gotta Organize 

No matter the weather 

It's a black Sunday, hey 

I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church 

For her soul she would search 

Five years later, now I'm off to work 

In a department store, I'm foldin' pants and shirts, ah 

At the end of the week, ah, Lawd 

Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet 

That's when I made a promise to my momma 

I said, "I betcha, you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma 

Be kickin' that fat funk shit 

Black, mackadocious, speakers in the back trunk shit" 

'Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me 

To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me 

To be a jackass in the future 

Then, who's gonna shoot ya? 

At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes 

Instead of doing crimes 

Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine 

Organized Konfusion did not get signed 

But we will soon one day, until then 

I return at twelve at noon on the track, black Sunday 

Lawd, help me out, ah 

We gotta get together, we gotta Organize 

No matter the weather 

It's a black Sunday 

Yeah, remember losing a loved one, Lawd, help us to make it over 

Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda 

We came a long way and I'm still runnin' for my freedom 

Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from 

The crack villes, so you can feed that baby 

I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady 

1 year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch 

And [unverified] was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick 

So I encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes 

And Mrs. J cooked dinner, then we came into same hard times 

Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate 

Two apes escaped back to L.A. with our demo tape 

The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that 

I gotta get mines, representin' 40 projects 

So I'm all-in, gotta make papes and all that 

Close my own record deal 'cause I can't fall for that 

Old snake shit hissin' in the grass 

For the cash, little cents, intuition listen 

If you're missin' my money, my fist you will be kissin' 

Dang, I don't even understand 

Lord, help me out now 

We gotta get together, we gotta organize 

No matter the weather 

It's a black Sunday 

Check it out 

Like to say whassup to my whole herd 

Like to say rest in peace to my man [unverified] 

And rest in peace to my man, juice, three strikes