Guns, Bread, No Love [LIVE]

Intro: You see now, not every moment in life is going to be gorgeous. It’s never gonna be butterflies and blue skies. There are some people in this world who live in fear. And some who live in lies and around friends who in reality are foes. Unfortunately, money dictates our world y’all! And we’re here to acknowledge that money ain’t the only good thing a human can have. There’s more. So if you know the lyrics to the songs, sing along, don’t be shy. Band, Kick it! [PIANO SOLO STARTS] Chorus [AUDIENCE SINGS]: Guns in the streets, and the pain keeps growin’, Tryna make bread but the world ain’t slowin’, Hearts turned cold, now we barely even show love, Livin’ every day like we’re runnin’ out of old love. Guns, bread, no love — that’s the life we know of, Tryna rise up, but it’s hard when there’s no love. [STAGE PERSON]: I like this, c’mon! [INSTRUMENTAL CONTINUES] Verse 1: Ya! Sun sets in the hood, but the shade stay heavy Young ones runnin’ wild ’cause the ground ain’t steady, Every dream gets taxed, every hope gets tested, Life feel rigged, like the whole deck’s nested. Word on the street say the world done changed, But the pain’s still here, just a little rearranged, New faces, same struggle, different chains we carry, Tryna build a future in a place that’s scary. Politicians talk big, but they never come around, Only time they know the hood is when the cameras hit the ground, So we hustle with the fear that tomorrow might break us, Hearts turned numb ’cause the world don’t save us. Kids losing friends ’fore they ever find peace, Moms prayin’ nightly that the violence might cease, We grind for the bread but the love stay missin’, Tryna be heard but my world don’t listen. Chorus: Guns in the streets, and the pain keeps growin’, Tryna make bread but the world ain’t slowin’, Hearts turned cold, now we barely even show love, Livin’ every day like we’re runnin’ out of old love. Guns, bread, no love — that’s the life we know of, Tryna rise up, but it’s hard when there’s no love. Guns in the streets, and the pain keeps growin’, Tryna make bread but the world ain’t slowin’, Hearts turned cold, now we barely even show love, Livin’ every day like we’re runnin’ out of old love. Guns, bread, no love — that’s the life we know of, Tryna rise up, but it’s hard when there’s no love. Verse 2: Everybody keep on facin’ with the struggles. Everyday, every week, every month is a hustle. Every corner got a history of someone that we lost, Every choice feel rigged, every win got a cost. Writin’ my pain in rhymes just to keep it from bleeding, Tryna heal wounds but the scars keep peeling, Friends turn foes when the pockets get low, And the truth gets quiet where the heartbreak grow. I try to write my pain on the empty piece of paper. Got the pen in my hand, my mind feels like a chamber. Full of empty thoughts, vanish like they’re vapours. As I sit at my desk, think of shit to say later. On a song like this, hope it makes me greater. People don’t see soul, the pain, just the paper. For the bread anyone would kill if it’s safer. When you’re outta money, you will only find a hater. Might be privileged but my struggles hit tight. Think about my well being every day and night. Started writing lyrics to continue the fight. Instead of surrendering to a knife to let me die. Chorus: Guns in the streets, and the pain keeps growin’, Tryna make bread but the world ain’t slowin’, Hearts turned cold, now we barely even show love, Livin’ every day like we’re runnin’ out of old love. Guns, bread, no love — that’s the life we know of, Tryna rise up, but it’s hard when there’s no love. Guns in the streets, and the pain keeps growin’, Tryna make bread but the world ain’t slowin’, Hearts turned cold, now we barely even show love, Livin’ every day like we’re runnin’ out of old love. Guns, bread, no love — that’s the life we know of, Tryna rise up, but it’s hard when there’s no love. Outro: [AUDIENCE SINGS] Guns in the streets, and the pain keeps growin’, Tryna make bread but the world ain’t slowin’, Hearts turned cold, now we barely even show love, Livin’ every day like we’re runnin’ out of old love. Guns, bread, no love — that’s the life we know of, Tryna rise up, but it’s hard when there’s no love.