Смысл текста песни "I Can't Go to Sleep" исполнителя "Wu-Tang Clan"

[Ghostface Killah:]

Technique is ill, son, watch how I spill one,

Peace to Biggie, 2Pac, Big L and Big Pun,

Havoc on the streets of Staten, snitches,

House ngas, children watch as they produce the same pattern.

Somebody raped our women, murdered our babies,

Hit us with the cracks and guns in the early 80's,

For those that murdered me shall stand before God

To fall at the hands of fate, then out comes the rod.

Bring it back, bring it back, bring it back!

What the fuck is goin' on, I can't go to sleep,

Feds jumpin' out their Jeeps, I can't go to sleep,

Babies with flies on they cheeks, it's hard to go to sleep,

Ish bowled two 6's twice, I couldn't go to sleep.

Ayo, we deep in the stairs, we carry big guns,

Whippy got hit up with the big shit, bong-bong!

Stop at the cheeba spot, then pass the leak spot,

Drove past y'all ngas again, you took a cheap shot,

Not knowing, fuckin' with me you get your meat chopped.

You thought we fell on our face, you need to be stopped,

Call on the chariots, call on an ambulance,

You better smile, my nga, you on candid cam,

Gangsta broad, these be the laws, walk with big balls,

Nga, mothafuckin' eunuch, I even take which was yours,

I'm the nga that made you, man,

When your rap wasn't doin' well, I'm the nga that gave you a hand.

[Isaac Hayes:]

Don't kill your brother, learn to love each other,

Don't get mad ‘cause it ain't that bad.

Look at who you are, you've come too far,

It's in your hands, just be a man.

Get the jelly out your spine,

Cobwebs out of your mind.

[RZA:]

I can't go to sleep, I can't shut my eyes,

They shot the father at his mom's building seven times,

They shot Malcolm in the chest front of his little seeds,

Jesse watched as they shot King on the balcony.

Exported Marcus Garvey ‘cause he tried to spark us

With the knowledge of ourselves and our forefathers,

Oh, Jacqueline, you heard the rifle shots cracklin',

Her husband's head in her hands, you tried to put it back in,

America's watchin' blood-stained ink blotches,

Medgar took one to the skull for integratin' college.

What's the science? Somebody? This is trick knowledge,

They try to keep us enslaved and still scrape for dollars,

Walkin' through Park Hill, drunk as a fuck,

Lookin' around like these Devils,

I'm ready to break this world down,

They got me trapped up in a metal gate,

Just stressed out with hate,

And just give me no time to relax and use my mind to meditate.

What should I do? Grab a blunt or a brew,

Grab a .22 and run out there and put this fuckin' violence in you?

I can't go to sleep, I can't shut ‘em, son.

[Isaac Hayes:]

Don't let the game make you lose your head,

You should be callin' the shots instead,

The power is in your hands,

Stop all this crying and be a man.