This song is written as the perspective of the boys in the street, as a whole, and what path they are going to choose as they get older and grow into men. (This is why the music video takes place in an orphanage.) The seen, and unseen collective suffering is imbedded in the boys’ mind, consciously or subconsciously, and is haunting them. Which path will the boys choose? Issac Hayes is the voice of reason, maybe God, the angel on his shoulder, or the voice of his forefathers from beyond the grave who can see the big picture and are pleading with the boys not to continue the violence and pattern of killing their brothers, but to rise above. The most beautiful song and has so many levels. Racism towards African Americans in America would not exist if everyone sat down and listened to this song and understood the history behind the words. The power, fear, pleading in RZA and Ghostface voices are genuine and powerful. Issac Hayes’ strong voice makes the perfect strong father figure, who is possibly from beyond the grave.
I'm just on a brick road
(La Musica de Harry Fraud)
Thought I told the bitch no
I'm drowned on the brick road
Yeah no, no, no, bitch no
Pussy moist, speakin' francois
Be the face, say it like the Glam Squad
Hand 'em, Alamo, Sham God
In the hood niggas sixteen gram pop
Flow go grander
.44 hammer
Slow flow animal
Wildebeast ain't good, what's your price range
Jets in Teterboro, straight white plains
Stuck to the buildin' triumph Killa Beez
Enemies turn friends, friends turn to enemies
Hella beans, twenty seven change
Nine-five bullet, twenty seven angles
Niggas change for money and a little name
Talkin' M-O-P nigga, little fame
I'mma shooter so I gotta say Grand Puba
Animals with dirty minks, dirty links, and Cubans
Pride in my pocket, eagle in the back
Ridin' with a rocket plus you in the sink
Percs and dirty drink (dirty drink, dirty drink, dirty drink)
Uh, know you want me broken out
Know you want me to fall on my face
Know you want me askin' you to hold somethin'
You niggas ain't crazy, crazy, nah
Don't make me treat you like a lady
Baby, ah
Rise like the ashes from the phoenix
Redemption in Shawshank
30 chains for Mac
Red diamonds, shot clock floor seats
Wood nigga, do it 'cause we could nigga
Ain't nothin' change but a couple diamond rings
Bunch of real niggas doin' realer things
Guerilla gang, clip banana man
Get stitched, hashed up, Taylor Gang
Wanna see me broke smokin' dope
Bullet proof sprinter like the pope
Tell 'em bitches float, haah
Wavy like a sailboat, haah
Know the feds wanna catch a nigga sellin' dope
Uh, know you want me broken out
Know you want me to fall on my face
Know you want me askin' you to hold somethin'
You niggas ain't crazy, crazy, nah
Don't make me treat you like a lady
Baby, ah
(La Musica de Harry Fraud)
Thought I told the bitch no
I'm drowned on the brick road
Yeah no, no, no, bitch no
Pussy moist, speakin' francois
Be the face, say it like the Glam Squad
Hand 'em, Alamo, Sham God
In the hood niggas sixteen gram pop
Flow go grander
.44 hammer
Slow flow animal
Wildebeast ain't good, what's your price range
Jets in Teterboro, straight white plains
Stuck to the buildin' triumph Killa Beez
Enemies turn friends, friends turn to enemies
Hella beans, twenty seven change
Nine-five bullet, twenty seven angles
Niggas change for money and a little name
Talkin' M-O-P nigga, little fame
I'mma shooter so I gotta say Grand Puba
Animals with dirty minks, dirty links, and Cubans
Pride in my pocket, eagle in the back
Ridin' with a rocket plus you in the sink
Percs and dirty drink (dirty drink, dirty drink, dirty drink)
Uh, know you want me broken out
Know you want me to fall on my face
Know you want me askin' you to hold somethin'
You niggas ain't crazy, crazy, nah
Don't make me treat you like a lady
Baby, ah
Rise like the ashes from the phoenix
Redemption in Shawshank
30 chains for Mac
Red diamonds, shot clock floor seats
Wood nigga, do it 'cause we could nigga
Ain't nothin' change but a couple diamond rings
Bunch of real niggas doin' realer things
Guerilla gang, clip banana man
Get stitched, hashed up, Taylor Gang
Wanna see me broke smokin' dope
Bullet proof sprinter like the pope
Tell 'em bitches float, haah
Wavy like a sailboat, haah
Know the feds wanna catch a nigga sellin' dope
Uh, know you want me broken out
Know you want me to fall on my face
Know you want me askin' you to hold somethin'
You niggas ain't crazy, crazy, nah
Don't make me treat you like a lady
Baby, ah
Lyrics submitted by Mellow_Harsher
Brick Road Lyrics as written by Rory Quigley Karim Kharbouch
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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