tupac remix of black cotton by dj 3en\nLYRICS\nBlack Cotton\nBlack Cotton\nBlack Cotton - A symbol for unrewarded struggle\nTime for a little gospel tail\nGhetto gospel that is- listen\nRobbin\' Black Cotton in God\'s eyes\nSpeak\n\n[Verse One: 2Pac]\n\nBlack Cotton\nSteady stressin\' Smith and Wessons count my blessin\'s\nClass is in session the worst question is the first question\nWhy do we work like slaves sweatin\' blades to an early grave\nNever got paid but still we slave (In the nine tre\')\nAnswer that then answer this too-\nLoves gonna get ya you know it\'s true life\'s a bitch true\nYou best to backtrack and try to act black and live\nNot to be phony and positive but why be negative?\nWhat\'s the matter G? Black cat got your tongue\nFat track gotcha sprung now your hung (Do ya feel me?)\nDum dum diddy is it me?\nAttempt to reach each and every brother on the streets\nIf not peace then at least let\'s get a piece\nI\'m tired of seeing bodies on the streets- deceased\nLookin\' through my highschool yearbook\nReminiscin\' of the tears as the years took\nOne homie, two homie, three homies - POOF\nWe used to have troops but now there\'s no more youth to shoot\nGod come save the misbegotten\nLost ghetto souls of Black Cotton (In God\'s eyes)\n\n[Chorus: Eminem]\n\nNobody don\'t care\n(No matter how hard I try/Look to the sky/and I ask God why)\nNobody don\'t care\n(Seems like my dreams/Drowned in by screams/No answer to my questions)\nNobody don\'t care\n(Feels like I\'m pressed/Why do I stress?/It\'s like I\'m being tested)\nNobody don\'t care\n(Seems like my prayers/Vanish to thin air/Please answer my questions)\nNobody don\'t care\n\n[Kastro: Verse 3]\n\nIn the belly of the beast I\'m bubbling up\nRunning out of luck, about to self destruct\nOld heads say live your life like such\nYour sure to catch her witcha one day boy\nI wouldn\'t listen to \'em\nYour power movement was cool\nBut it ain\'t fix nothin\'\nSo I just go with what i know\nI dont trust none\nLook what the 80\'s did\nTo what\'s Bebe\'s kids\nAnd now we grown up\nNobody ain\'t own us yet\n\n[Young Noble: Verse 4]\n\nBlack cotton, I\'m plottin\' on what they owe me\nI\'m workin\' without a profit\nThey shacklin\' all my homies\nI\'m hurtin\' but keep the mind\nAnd we ain\'t stop, its cutains, you try to rise and\nCertainly we survive with Outlaw Ridas\nWhat\'s the reward for a strugala\nIf the lord lovin\' us then why they hate to see us comin\' up\nRunnin up, Gun cocked like nasty gloves\nIf you aint got a penny, mind the glove\nNo love\nWaitin\' for my 40 acas and a blunt to blaze\nBiblicle times good hearts with milita minds\nBlack Cotton - I\'m hoppin\' over enemy lines\nBlack Cotton - I ain\'t stoppin\' till they givin me mine\nBlack Cotton

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