[{"id":19255213,"name":"Black Sunday","trackName":"Black Sunday","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"The Best of Organized Konfusion","duration":192.2,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Lawd, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nI used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\nFor her soul she would search\nFive years later now I'm off to work\nIn a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\nAt the end of the week-ah, lawd\nJust enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\nThat's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\nBe kickin that fat funk shit;\nBlack, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\nCause the boss is boss and need is costing me\nTo miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\nTo be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\nAt this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n. Instead of doing crimes\nNineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\nOrganized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\nBut we will soon one day, until then\nI return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\nChorus:\n\nLawd, help me out-ah\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\n(Prince Poetry)\nYeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\nDelete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\nWe came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\nStill have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\nCrack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\nI used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\nI year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\nAnd? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\nEncouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\nAnd Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\nSour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\nTwo apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\nThe state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\nI gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\nAll-in, gotta make papes and all that\nClose my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\nOld snake shit, hissin in the grass\nFor the cash, little cents, intuition listen\nIf you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\nDang... I don't even understand\n\nChorus:\n\nLord, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\nOutro:\n\nCheck it out\nLike to say whassup to my whole herd\nLike to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\nAnd rest in peace to my man Juice\nThree strikes","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.98] Lawd, help me out now\n[00:02.71] We gotta get together\n[00:05.47] We gotta Organize\n[00:08.11] No matter the weather\n[00:10.95] It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n[00:12.74] (Pharoahe Monch)\n[00:17.25] I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n[00:20.87] For her soul she would search\n[00:22.77] Five years later now I'm off to work\n[00:25.44] In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n[00:29.07] At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n[00:30.87] Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n[00:34.48] That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n[00:37.13] \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n[00:39.83] Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n[00:42.68] Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n[00:46.26] Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n[00:48.92] To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n[00:51.67] To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n[00:56.22] At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n[00:59.86] . Instead of doing crimes\n[01:02.50] Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n[01:04.38] Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n[01:08.03] But we will soon one day, until then\n[01:10.76] I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n[01:13.46] Chorus:\n[01:15.21] Lawd, help me out-ah\n[01:16.19] We gotta get together\n[01:18.83] We gotta Organize\n[01:21.52] No matter the weather\n[01:24.37] It's a Black Sunday\n[01:26.12] (Prince Poetry)\n[01:28.83] Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n[01:33.44] Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n[01:36.13] We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n[01:38.89] Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n[01:41.69] Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n[01:44.39] I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n[01:47.06] I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n[01:49.76] And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n[01:52.43] Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n[01:55.14] And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n[01:58.84] Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n[02:00.62] Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n[02:04.37] The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n[02:06.18] I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n[02:09.80] All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n[02:12.54] Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n[02:15.20] Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n[02:17.98] For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n[02:20.66] If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n[02:22.57] Dang... I don't even understand\n[02:26.18] Chorus:\n[02:27.03] Lord, help me out now\n[02:28.80] We gotta get together\n[02:31.53] We gotta Organize\n[02:34.30] No matter the weather\n[02:37.02] It's a Black Sunday\n[02:38.93] Outro:\n[02:47.94] Check it out\n[02:48.84] Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n[02:51.51] Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n[02:54.26] And rest in peace to my man Juice\n[02:56.08] Three strikes\n[02:57.86] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Black Sunday\n artist: Organized Konfusion\n album: The Best of Organized Konfusion\n duration_ms: 192200\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Lawd, help me out now\n start_ms: 980\n end_ms: 2710\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 2710\n end_ms: 5470\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 5470\n end_ms: 8110\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 8110\n end_ms: 10950\n- text: It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n start_ms: 10950\n end_ms: 12740\n- text: (Pharoahe Monch)\n start_ms: 12740\n end_ms: 17250\n- text: I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n start_ms: 17250\n end_ms: 20870\n- text: For her soul she would search\n start_ms: 20870\n end_ms: 22770\n- text: Five years later now I'm off to work\n start_ms: 22770\n end_ms: 25440\n- text: In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n start_ms: 25440\n end_ms: 29070\n- text: At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n start_ms: 29070\n end_ms: 30870\n- text: Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n start_ms: 30870\n end_ms: 34480\n- text: That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n start_ms: 34480\n end_ms: 37130\n- text: '\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I''ma.'\n start_ms: 37130\n end_ms: 39830\n- text: Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n start_ms: 39830\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 46260\n- text: Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n start_ms: 46260\n end_ms: 48920\n- text: To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n start_ms: 48920\n end_ms: 51670\n- text: To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n start_ms: 51670\n end_ms: 56220\n- text: At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n start_ms: 56220\n end_ms: 59860\n- text: . Instead of doing crimes\n start_ms: 59860\n end_ms: 62500\n- text: Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n start_ms: 62500\n end_ms: 64380\n- text: Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n start_ms: 64380\n end_ms: 68030\n- text: But we will soon one day, until then\n start_ms: 68030\n end_ms: 70760\n- text: I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n start_ms: 70760\n end_ms: 73460\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 73460\n end_ms: 75210\n- text: Lawd, help me out-ah\n start_ms: 75210\n end_ms: 76190\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 76190\n end_ms: 78830\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 78830\n end_ms: 81520\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 81520\n end_ms: 84370\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 84370\n end_ms: 86120\n- text: (Prince Poetry)\n start_ms: 86120\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 93440\n- text: Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n start_ms: 93440\n end_ms: 96130\n- text: We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n start_ms: 96130\n end_ms: 98890\n- text: Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n start_ms: 98890\n end_ms: 101690\n- text: Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n start_ms: 101690\n end_ms: 104390\n- text: I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n start_ms: 104390\n end_ms: 107060\n- text: I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n start_ms: 107060\n end_ms: 109760\n- text: And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n start_ms: 109760\n end_ms: 112430\n- text: Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n start_ms: 112430\n end_ms: 115140\n- text: And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n start_ms: 115140\n end_ms: 118840\n- text: Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n start_ms: 118840\n end_ms: 120620\n- text: Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n start_ms: 120620\n end_ms: 124370\n- text: The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n start_ms: 124370\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 129800\n- text: All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n start_ms: 129800\n end_ms: 132540\n- text: Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n start_ms: 132540\n end_ms: 135200\n- text: Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n start_ms: 135200\n end_ms: 137980\n- text: For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n start_ms: 137980\n end_ms: 140660\n- text: If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n start_ms: 140660\n end_ms: 142570\n- text: Dang... I don't even understand\n start_ms: 142570\n end_ms: 146180\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 146180\n end_ms: 147030\n- text: Lord, help me out now\n start_ms: 147030\n end_ms: 148800\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 148800\n end_ms: 151530\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 151530\n end_ms: 154300\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 154300\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 158930\n- text: 'Outro:'\n start_ms: 158930\n end_ms: 167940\n- text: Check it out\n start_ms: 167940\n end_ms: 168840\n- text: Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n start_ms: 168840\n end_ms: 171510\n- text: Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n start_ms: 171510\n end_ms: 174260\n- text: And rest in peace to my man Juice\n start_ms: 174260\n end_ms: 176080\n- text: Three strikes\n start_ms: 176080\n end_ms: 177860\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 177860\nplain: |-\n Lawd, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n (Pharoahe Monch)\n I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n For her soul she would search\n Five years later now I'm off to work\n In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n . Instead of doing crimes\n Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n But we will soon one day, until then\n I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lawd, help me out-ah\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n (Prince Poetry)\n Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n Dang... I don't even understand\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lord, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n Outro:\n\n Check it out\n Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n And rest in peace to my man Juice\n Three strikes\n"},{"id":93350,"name":"Black Sunday","trackName":"Black Sunday","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress: The Extinction Agenda","duration":191.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Lawd, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nI used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\nFor her soul she would search\nFive years later now I'm off to work\nIn a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\nAt the end of the week-ah, lawd\nJust enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\nThat's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\nBe kickin that fat funk shit;\nBlack, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\nCause the boss is boss and need is costing me\nTo miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\nTo be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\nAt this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n. Instead of doing crimes\nNineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\nOrganized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\nBut we will soon one day, until then\nI return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\nChorus:\n\nLawd, help me out-ah\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\n(Prince Poetry)\nYeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\nDelete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\nWe came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\nStill have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\nCrack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\nI used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\nI year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\nAnd? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\nEncouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\nAnd Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\nSour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\nTwo apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\nThe state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\nI gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\nAll-in, gotta make papes and all that\nClose my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\nOld snake shit, hissin in the grass\nFor the cash, little cents, intuition listen\nIf you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\nDang... I don't even understand\n\nChorus:\n\nLord, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\nOutro:\n\nCheck it out\nLike to say whassup to my whole herd\nLike to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\nAnd rest in peace to my man Juice\nThree strikes","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.98] Lawd, help me out now\n[00:02.71] We gotta get together\n[00:05.47] We gotta Organize\n[00:08.11] No matter the weather\n[00:10.95] It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n[00:12.74] (Pharoahe Monch)\n[00:17.25] I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n[00:20.87] For her soul she would search\n[00:22.77] Five years later now I'm off to work\n[00:25.44] In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n[00:29.07] At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n[00:30.87] Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n[00:34.48] That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n[00:37.13] \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n[00:39.83] Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n[00:42.68] Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n[00:46.26] Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n[00:48.92] To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n[00:51.67] To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n[00:56.22] At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n[00:59.86] . Instead of doing crimes\n[01:02.50] Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n[01:04.38] Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n[01:08.03] But we will soon one day, until then\n[01:10.76] I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n[01:13.46] Chorus:\n[01:15.21] Lawd, help me out-ah\n[01:16.19] We gotta get together\n[01:18.83] We gotta Organize\n[01:21.52] No matter the weather\n[01:24.37] It's a Black Sunday\n[01:26.12] (Prince Poetry)\n[01:28.83] Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n[01:33.44] Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n[01:36.13] We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n[01:38.89] Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n[01:41.69] Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n[01:44.39] I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n[01:47.06] I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n[01:49.76] And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n[01:52.43] Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n[01:55.14] And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n[01:58.84] Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n[02:00.62] Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n[02:04.37] The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n[02:06.18] I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n[02:09.80] All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n[02:12.54] Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n[02:15.20] Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n[02:17.98] For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n[02:20.66] If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n[02:22.57] Dang... I don't even understand\n[02:26.18] Chorus:\n[02:27.03] Lord, help me out now\n[02:28.80] We gotta get together\n[02:31.53] We gotta Organize\n[02:34.30] No matter the weather\n[02:37.02] It's a Black Sunday\n[02:38.93] Outro:\n[02:47.94] Check it out\n[02:48.84] Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n[02:51.51] Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n[02:54.26] And rest in peace to my man Juice\n[02:56.08] Three strikes\n[02:57.86] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Black Sunday\n artist: Organized Konfusion\n album: 'Stress: The Extinction Agenda'\n duration_ms: 191000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Lawd, help me out now\n start_ms: 980\n end_ms: 2710\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 2710\n end_ms: 5470\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 5470\n end_ms: 8110\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 8110\n end_ms: 10950\n- text: It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n start_ms: 10950\n end_ms: 12740\n- text: (Pharoahe Monch)\n start_ms: 12740\n end_ms: 17250\n- text: I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n start_ms: 17250\n end_ms: 20870\n- text: For her soul she would search\n start_ms: 20870\n end_ms: 22770\n- text: Five years later now I'm off to work\n start_ms: 22770\n end_ms: 25440\n- text: In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n start_ms: 25440\n end_ms: 29070\n- text: At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n start_ms: 29070\n end_ms: 30870\n- text: Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n start_ms: 30870\n end_ms: 34480\n- text: That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n start_ms: 34480\n end_ms: 37130\n- text: '\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I''ma.'\n start_ms: 37130\n end_ms: 39830\n- text: Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n start_ms: 39830\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 46260\n- text: Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n start_ms: 46260\n end_ms: 48920\n- text: To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n start_ms: 48920\n end_ms: 51670\n- text: To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n start_ms: 51670\n end_ms: 56220\n- text: At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n start_ms: 56220\n end_ms: 59860\n- text: . Instead of doing crimes\n start_ms: 59860\n end_ms: 62500\n- text: Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n start_ms: 62500\n end_ms: 64380\n- text: Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n start_ms: 64380\n end_ms: 68030\n- text: But we will soon one day, until then\n start_ms: 68030\n end_ms: 70760\n- text: I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n start_ms: 70760\n end_ms: 73460\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 73460\n end_ms: 75210\n- text: Lawd, help me out-ah\n start_ms: 75210\n end_ms: 76190\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 76190\n end_ms: 78830\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 78830\n end_ms: 81520\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 81520\n end_ms: 84370\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 84370\n end_ms: 86120\n- text: (Prince Poetry)\n start_ms: 86120\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 93440\n- text: Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n start_ms: 93440\n end_ms: 96130\n- text: We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n start_ms: 96130\n end_ms: 98890\n- text: Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n start_ms: 98890\n end_ms: 101690\n- text: Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n start_ms: 101690\n end_ms: 104390\n- text: I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n start_ms: 104390\n end_ms: 107060\n- text: I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n start_ms: 107060\n end_ms: 109760\n- text: And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n start_ms: 109760\n end_ms: 112430\n- text: Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n start_ms: 112430\n end_ms: 115140\n- text: And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n start_ms: 115140\n end_ms: 118840\n- text: Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n start_ms: 118840\n end_ms: 120620\n- text: Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n start_ms: 120620\n end_ms: 124370\n- text: The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n start_ms: 124370\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 129800\n- text: All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n start_ms: 129800\n end_ms: 132540\n- text: Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n start_ms: 132540\n end_ms: 135200\n- text: Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n start_ms: 135200\n end_ms: 137980\n- text: For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n start_ms: 137980\n end_ms: 140660\n- text: If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n start_ms: 140660\n end_ms: 142570\n- text: Dang... I don't even understand\n start_ms: 142570\n end_ms: 146180\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 146180\n end_ms: 147030\n- text: Lord, help me out now\n start_ms: 147030\n end_ms: 148800\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 148800\n end_ms: 151530\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 151530\n end_ms: 154300\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 154300\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 158930\n- text: 'Outro:'\n start_ms: 158930\n end_ms: 167940\n- text: Check it out\n start_ms: 167940\n end_ms: 168840\n- text: Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n start_ms: 168840\n end_ms: 171510\n- text: Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n start_ms: 171510\n end_ms: 174260\n- text: And rest in peace to my man Juice\n start_ms: 174260\n end_ms: 176080\n- text: Three strikes\n start_ms: 176080\n end_ms: 177860\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 177860\nplain: |-\n Lawd, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n (Pharoahe Monch)\n I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n For her soul she would search\n Five years later now I'm off to work\n In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n . Instead of doing crimes\n Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n But we will soon one day, until then\n I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lawd, help me out-ah\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n (Prince Poetry)\n Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n Dang... I don't even understand\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lord, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n Outro:\n\n Check it out\n Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n And rest in peace to my man Juice\n Three strikes\n"},{"id":31141094,"name":"Black Sunday","trackName":"Black Sunday","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"The Best Of","duration":192.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Lawd, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nI used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\nFor her soul she would search\nFive years later now I'm off to work\nIn a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\nAt the end of the week-ah, lawd\nJust enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\nThat's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\nBe kickin that fat funk shit;\nBlack, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\nCause the boss is boss and need is costing me\nTo miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\nTo be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\nAt this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n. Instead of doing crimes\nNineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\nOrganized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\nBut we will soon one day, until then\nI return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\nChorus:\n\nLawd, help me out-ah\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\n(Prince Poetry)\nYeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\nDelete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\nWe came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\nStill have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\nCrack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\nI used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\nI year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\nAnd? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\nEncouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\nAnd Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\nSour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\nTwo apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\nThe state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\nI gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\nAll-in, gotta make papes and all that\nClose my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\nOld snake shit, hissin in the grass\nFor the cash, little cents, intuition listen\nIf you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\nDang... I don't even understand\n\nChorus:\n\nLord, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\nOutro:\n\nCheck it out\nLike to say whassup to my whole herd\nLike to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\nAnd rest in peace to my man Juice\nThree strikes","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.98] Lawd, help me out now\n[00:02.71] We gotta get together\n[00:05.47] We gotta Organize\n[00:08.11] No matter the weather\n[00:10.95] It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n[00:12.74] (Pharoahe Monch)\n[00:17.25] I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n[00:20.87] For her soul she would search\n[00:22.77] Five years later now I'm off to work\n[00:25.44] In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n[00:29.07] At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n[00:30.87] Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n[00:34.48] That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n[00:37.13] \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n[00:39.83] Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n[00:42.68] Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n[00:46.26] Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n[00:48.92] To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n[00:51.67] To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n[00:56.22] At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n[00:59.86] . Instead of doing crimes\n[01:02.50] Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n[01:04.38] Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n[01:08.03] But we will soon one day, until then\n[01:10.76] I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n[01:13.46] Chorus:\n[01:15.21] Lawd, help me out-ah\n[01:16.19] We gotta get together\n[01:18.83] We gotta Organize\n[01:21.52] No matter the weather\n[01:24.37] It's a Black Sunday\n[01:26.12] (Prince Poetry)\n[01:28.83] Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n[01:33.44] Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n[01:36.13] We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n[01:38.89] Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n[01:41.69] Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n[01:44.39] I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n[01:47.06] I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n[01:49.76] And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n[01:52.43] Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n[01:55.14] And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n[01:58.84] Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n[02:00.62] Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n[02:04.37] The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n[02:06.18] I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n[02:09.80] All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n[02:12.54] Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n[02:15.20] Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n[02:17.98] For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n[02:20.66] If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n[02:22.57] Dang... I don't even understand\n[02:26.18] Chorus:\n[02:27.03] Lord, help me out now\n[02:28.80] We gotta get together\n[02:31.53] We gotta Organize\n[02:34.30] No matter the weather\n[02:37.02] It's a Black Sunday\n[02:38.93] Outro:\n[02:47.94] Check it out\n[02:48.84] Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n[02:51.51] Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n[02:54.26] And rest in peace to my man Juice\n[02:56.08] Three strikes\n[02:57.86] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Black Sunday\n artist: Organized Konfusion\n album: The Best Of\n duration_ms: 192000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Lawd, help me out now\n start_ms: 980\n end_ms: 2710\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 2710\n end_ms: 5470\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 5470\n end_ms: 8110\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 8110\n end_ms: 10950\n- text: It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n start_ms: 10950\n end_ms: 12740\n- text: (Pharoahe Monch)\n start_ms: 12740\n end_ms: 17250\n- text: I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n start_ms: 17250\n end_ms: 20870\n- text: For her soul she would search\n start_ms: 20870\n end_ms: 22770\n- text: Five years later now I'm off to work\n start_ms: 22770\n end_ms: 25440\n- text: In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n start_ms: 25440\n end_ms: 29070\n- text: At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n start_ms: 29070\n end_ms: 30870\n- text: Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n start_ms: 30870\n end_ms: 34480\n- text: That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n start_ms: 34480\n end_ms: 37130\n- text: '\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I''ma.'\n start_ms: 37130\n end_ms: 39830\n- text: Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n start_ms: 39830\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 46260\n- text: Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n start_ms: 46260\n end_ms: 48920\n- text: To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n start_ms: 48920\n end_ms: 51670\n- text: To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n start_ms: 51670\n end_ms: 56220\n- text: At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n start_ms: 56220\n end_ms: 59860\n- text: . Instead of doing crimes\n start_ms: 59860\n end_ms: 62500\n- text: Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n start_ms: 62500\n end_ms: 64380\n- text: Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n start_ms: 64380\n end_ms: 68030\n- text: But we will soon one day, until then\n start_ms: 68030\n end_ms: 70760\n- text: I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n start_ms: 70760\n end_ms: 73460\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 73460\n end_ms: 75210\n- text: Lawd, help me out-ah\n start_ms: 75210\n end_ms: 76190\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 76190\n end_ms: 78830\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 78830\n end_ms: 81520\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 81520\n end_ms: 84370\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 84370\n end_ms: 86120\n- text: (Prince Poetry)\n start_ms: 86120\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 93440\n- text: Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n start_ms: 93440\n end_ms: 96130\n- text: We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n start_ms: 96130\n end_ms: 98890\n- text: Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n start_ms: 98890\n end_ms: 101690\n- text: Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n start_ms: 101690\n end_ms: 104390\n- text: I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n start_ms: 104390\n end_ms: 107060\n- text: I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n start_ms: 107060\n end_ms: 109760\n- text: And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n start_ms: 109760\n end_ms: 112430\n- text: Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n start_ms: 112430\n end_ms: 115140\n- text: And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n start_ms: 115140\n end_ms: 118840\n- text: Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n start_ms: 118840\n end_ms: 120620\n- text: Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n start_ms: 120620\n end_ms: 124370\n- text: The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n start_ms: 124370\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 129800\n- text: All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n start_ms: 129800\n end_ms: 132540\n- text: Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n start_ms: 132540\n end_ms: 135200\n- text: Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n start_ms: 135200\n end_ms: 137980\n- text: For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n start_ms: 137980\n end_ms: 140660\n- text: If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n start_ms: 140660\n end_ms: 142570\n- text: Dang... I don't even understand\n start_ms: 142570\n end_ms: 146180\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 146180\n end_ms: 147030\n- text: Lord, help me out now\n start_ms: 147030\n end_ms: 148800\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 148800\n end_ms: 151530\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 151530\n end_ms: 154300\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 154300\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 158930\n- text: 'Outro:'\n start_ms: 158930\n end_ms: 167940\n- text: Check it out\n start_ms: 167940\n end_ms: 168840\n- text: Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n start_ms: 168840\n end_ms: 171510\n- text: Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n start_ms: 171510\n end_ms: 174260\n- text: And rest in peace to my man Juice\n start_ms: 174260\n end_ms: 176080\n- text: Three strikes\n start_ms: 176080\n end_ms: 177860\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 177860\nplain: |-\n Lawd, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n (Pharoahe Monch)\n I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n For her soul she would search\n Five years later now I'm off to work\n In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n . Instead of doing crimes\n Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n But we will soon one day, until then\n I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lawd, help me out-ah\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n (Prince Poetry)\n Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n Dang... I don't even understand\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lord, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n Outro:\n\n Check it out\n Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n And rest in peace to my man Juice\n Three strikes\n"},{"id":31649235,"name":"Black Sunday","trackName":"Black Sunday","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress (The Extinction Agenda)","duration":195.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Lawd, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nI used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\nFor her soul she would search\nFive years later now I'm off to work\nIn a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\nAt the end of the week-ah, lawd\nJust enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\nThat's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\nBe kickin that fat funk shit;\nBlack, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\nCause the boss is boss and need is costing me\nTo miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\nTo be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\nAt this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n. Instead of doing crimes\nNineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\nOrganized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\nBut we will soon one day, until then\nI return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\nChorus:\n\nLawd, help me out-ah\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\n(Prince Poetry)\nYeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\nDelete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\nWe came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\nStill have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\nCrack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\nI used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\nI year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\nAnd? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\nEncouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\nAnd Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\nSour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\nTwo apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\nThe state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\nI gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\nAll-in, gotta make papes and all that\nClose my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\nOld snake shit, hissin in the grass\nFor the cash, little cents, intuition listen\nIf you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\nDang... I don't even understand\n\nChorus:\n\nLord, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\nOutro:\n\nCheck it out\nLike to say whassup to my whole herd\nLike to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\nAnd rest in peace to my man Juice\nThree strikes","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.98] Lawd, help me out now\n[00:02.71] We gotta get together\n[00:05.47] We gotta Organize\n[00:08.11] No matter the weather\n[00:10.95] It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n[00:12.74] (Pharoahe Monch)\n[00:17.25] I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n[00:20.87] For her soul she would search\n[00:22.77] Five years later now I'm off to work\n[00:25.44] In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n[00:29.07] At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n[00:30.87] Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n[00:34.48] That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n[00:37.13] \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n[00:39.83] Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n[00:42.68] Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n[00:46.26] Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n[00:48.92] To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n[00:51.67] To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n[00:56.22] At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n[00:59.86] . Instead of doing crimes\n[01:02.50] Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n[01:04.38] Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n[01:08.03] But we will soon one day, until then\n[01:10.76] I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n[01:13.46] Chorus:\n[01:15.21] Lawd, help me out-ah\n[01:16.19] We gotta get together\n[01:18.83] We gotta Organize\n[01:21.52] No matter the weather\n[01:24.37] It's a Black Sunday\n[01:26.12] (Prince Poetry)\n[01:28.83] Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n[01:33.44] Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n[01:36.13] We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n[01:38.89] Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n[01:41.69] Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n[01:44.39] I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n[01:47.06] I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n[01:49.76] And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n[01:52.43] Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n[01:55.14] And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n[01:58.84] Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n[02:00.62] Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n[02:04.37] The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n[02:06.18] I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n[02:09.80] All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n[02:12.54] Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n[02:15.20] Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n[02:17.98] For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n[02:20.66] If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n[02:22.57] Dang... I don't even understand\n[02:26.18] Chorus:\n[02:27.03] Lord, help me out now\n[02:28.80] We gotta get together\n[02:31.53] We gotta Organize\n[02:34.30] No matter the weather\n[02:37.02] It's a Black Sunday\n[02:38.93] Outro:\n[02:47.94] Check it out\n[02:48.84] Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n[02:51.51] Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n[02:54.26] And rest in peace to my man Juice\n[02:56.08] Three strikes\n[02:57.86] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Black Sunday\n artist: Organized Konfusion\n album: Stress (The Extinction Agenda)\n duration_ms: 195000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Lawd, help me out now\n start_ms: 980\n end_ms: 2710\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 2710\n end_ms: 5470\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 5470\n end_ms: 8110\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 8110\n end_ms: 10950\n- text: It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n start_ms: 10950\n end_ms: 12740\n- text: (Pharoahe Monch)\n start_ms: 12740\n end_ms: 17250\n- text: I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n start_ms: 17250\n end_ms: 20870\n- text: For her soul she would search\n start_ms: 20870\n end_ms: 22770\n- text: Five years later now I'm off to work\n start_ms: 22770\n end_ms: 25440\n- text: In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n start_ms: 25440\n end_ms: 29070\n- text: At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n start_ms: 29070\n end_ms: 30870\n- text: Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n start_ms: 30870\n end_ms: 34480\n- text: That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n start_ms: 34480\n end_ms: 37130\n- text: '\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I''ma.'\n start_ms: 37130\n end_ms: 39830\n- text: Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n start_ms: 39830\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 46260\n- text: Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n start_ms: 46260\n end_ms: 48920\n- text: To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n start_ms: 48920\n end_ms: 51670\n- text: To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n start_ms: 51670\n end_ms: 56220\n- text: At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n start_ms: 56220\n end_ms: 59860\n- text: . Instead of doing crimes\n start_ms: 59860\n end_ms: 62500\n- text: Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n start_ms: 62500\n end_ms: 64380\n- text: Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n start_ms: 64380\n end_ms: 68030\n- text: But we will soon one day, until then\n start_ms: 68030\n end_ms: 70760\n- text: I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n start_ms: 70760\n end_ms: 73460\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 73460\n end_ms: 75210\n- text: Lawd, help me out-ah\n start_ms: 75210\n end_ms: 76190\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 76190\n end_ms: 78830\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 78830\n end_ms: 81520\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 81520\n end_ms: 84370\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 84370\n end_ms: 86120\n- text: (Prince Poetry)\n start_ms: 86120\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 93440\n- text: Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n start_ms: 93440\n end_ms: 96130\n- text: We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n start_ms: 96130\n end_ms: 98890\n- text: Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n start_ms: 98890\n end_ms: 101690\n- text: Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n start_ms: 101690\n end_ms: 104390\n- text: I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n start_ms: 104390\n end_ms: 107060\n- text: I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n start_ms: 107060\n end_ms: 109760\n- text: And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n start_ms: 109760\n end_ms: 112430\n- text: Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n start_ms: 112430\n end_ms: 115140\n- text: And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n start_ms: 115140\n end_ms: 118840\n- text: Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n start_ms: 118840\n end_ms: 120620\n- text: Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n start_ms: 120620\n end_ms: 124370\n- text: The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n start_ms: 124370\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 129800\n- text: All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n start_ms: 129800\n end_ms: 132540\n- text: Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n start_ms: 132540\n end_ms: 135200\n- text: Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n start_ms: 135200\n end_ms: 137980\n- text: For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n start_ms: 137980\n end_ms: 140660\n- text: If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n start_ms: 140660\n end_ms: 142570\n- text: Dang... I don't even understand\n start_ms: 142570\n end_ms: 146180\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 146180\n end_ms: 147030\n- text: Lord, help me out now\n start_ms: 147030\n end_ms: 148800\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 148800\n end_ms: 151530\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 151530\n end_ms: 154300\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 154300\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 158930\n- text: 'Outro:'\n start_ms: 158930\n end_ms: 167940\n- text: Check it out\n start_ms: 167940\n end_ms: 168840\n- text: Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n start_ms: 168840\n end_ms: 171510\n- text: Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n start_ms: 171510\n end_ms: 174260\n- text: And rest in peace to my man Juice\n start_ms: 174260\n end_ms: 176080\n- text: Three strikes\n start_ms: 176080\n end_ms: 177860\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 177860\nplain: |-\n Lawd, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n (Pharoahe Monch)\n I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n For her soul she would search\n Five years later now I'm off to work\n In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n . Instead of doing crimes\n Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n But we will soon one day, until then\n I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lawd, help me out-ah\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n (Prince Poetry)\n Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n Dang... I don't even understand\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lord, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n Outro:\n\n Check it out\n Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n And rest in peace to my man Juice\n Three strikes\n"},{"id":21303547,"name":"Black Sunday","trackName":"Black Sunday","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress: The Extinction Agenda (CD 1)","duration":191.242449,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Lawd, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nI used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\nFor her soul she would search\nFive years later now I'm off to work\nIn a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\nAt the end of the week-ah, lawd\nJust enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\nThat's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\nBe kickin that fat funk shit;\nBlack, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\nCause the boss is boss and need is costing me\nTo miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\nTo be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\nAt this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n. Instead of doing crimes\nNineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\nOrganized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\nBut we will soon one day, until then\nI return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\nChorus:\n\nLawd, help me out-ah\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\n(Prince Poetry)\nYeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\nDelete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\nWe came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\nStill have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\nCrack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\nI used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\nI year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\nAnd? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\nEncouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\nAnd Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\nSour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\nTwo apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\nThe state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\nI gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\nAll-in, gotta make papes and all that\nClose my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\nOld snake shit, hissin in the grass\nFor the cash, little cents, intuition listen\nIf you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\nDang... I don't even understand\n\nChorus:\n\nLord, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\nOutro:\n\nCheck it out\nLike to say whassup to my whole herd\nLike to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\nAnd rest in peace to my man Juice\nThree strikes","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.98] Lawd, help me out now\n[00:02.71] We gotta get together\n[00:05.47] We gotta Organize\n[00:08.11] No matter the weather\n[00:10.95] It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n[00:12.74] (Pharoahe Monch)\n[00:17.25] I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n[00:20.87] For her soul she would search\n[00:22.77] Five years later now I'm off to work\n[00:25.44] In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n[00:29.07] At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n[00:30.87] Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n[00:34.48] That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n[00:37.13] \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n[00:39.83] Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n[00:42.68] Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n[00:46.26] Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n[00:48.92] To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n[00:51.67] To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n[00:56.22] At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n[00:59.86] . Instead of doing crimes\n[01:02.50] Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n[01:04.38] Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n[01:08.03] But we will soon one day, until then\n[01:10.76] I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n[01:13.46] Chorus:\n[01:15.21] Lawd, help me out-ah\n[01:16.19] We gotta get together\n[01:18.83] We gotta Organize\n[01:21.52] No matter the weather\n[01:24.37] It's a Black Sunday\n[01:26.12] (Prince Poetry)\n[01:28.83] Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n[01:33.44] Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n[01:36.13] We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n[01:38.89] Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n[01:41.69] Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n[01:44.39] I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n[01:47.06] I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n[01:49.76] And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n[01:52.43] Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n[01:55.14] And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n[01:58.84] Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n[02:00.62] Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n[02:04.37] The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n[02:06.18] I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n[02:09.80] All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n[02:12.54] Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n[02:15.20] Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n[02:17.98] For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n[02:20.66] If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n[02:22.57] Dang... I don't even understand\n[02:26.18] Chorus:\n[02:27.03] Lord, help me out now\n[02:28.80] We gotta get together\n[02:31.53] We gotta Organize\n[02:34.30] No matter the weather\n[02:37.02] It's a Black Sunday\n[02:38.93] Outro:\n[02:47.94] Check it out\n[02:48.84] Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n[02:51.51] Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n[02:54.26] And rest in peace to my man Juice\n[02:56.08] Three strikes\n[02:57.86] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Black Sunday\n artist: Organized Konfusion\n album: 'Stress: The Extinction Agenda (CD 1)'\n duration_ms: 191242\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Lawd, help me out now\n start_ms: 980\n end_ms: 2710\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 2710\n end_ms: 5470\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 5470\n end_ms: 8110\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 8110\n end_ms: 10950\n- text: It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n start_ms: 10950\n end_ms: 12740\n- text: (Pharoahe Monch)\n start_ms: 12740\n end_ms: 17250\n- text: I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n start_ms: 17250\n end_ms: 20870\n- text: For her soul she would search\n start_ms: 20870\n end_ms: 22770\n- text: Five years later now I'm off to work\n start_ms: 22770\n end_ms: 25440\n- text: In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n start_ms: 25440\n end_ms: 29070\n- text: At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n start_ms: 29070\n end_ms: 30870\n- text: Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n start_ms: 30870\n end_ms: 34480\n- text: That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n start_ms: 34480\n end_ms: 37130\n- text: '\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I''ma.'\n start_ms: 37130\n end_ms: 39830\n- text: Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n start_ms: 39830\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 46260\n- text: Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n start_ms: 46260\n end_ms: 48920\n- text: To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n start_ms: 48920\n end_ms: 51670\n- text: To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n start_ms: 51670\n end_ms: 56220\n- text: At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n start_ms: 56220\n end_ms: 59860\n- text: . Instead of doing crimes\n start_ms: 59860\n end_ms: 62500\n- text: Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n start_ms: 62500\n end_ms: 64380\n- text: Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n start_ms: 64380\n end_ms: 68030\n- text: But we will soon one day, until then\n start_ms: 68030\n end_ms: 70760\n- text: I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n start_ms: 70760\n end_ms: 73460\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 73460\n end_ms: 75210\n- text: Lawd, help me out-ah\n start_ms: 75210\n end_ms: 76190\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 76190\n end_ms: 78830\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 78830\n end_ms: 81520\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 81520\n end_ms: 84370\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 84370\n end_ms: 86120\n- text: (Prince Poetry)\n start_ms: 86120\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 93440\n- text: Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n start_ms: 93440\n end_ms: 96130\n- text: We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n start_ms: 96130\n end_ms: 98890\n- text: Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n start_ms: 98890\n end_ms: 101690\n- text: Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n start_ms: 101690\n end_ms: 104390\n- text: I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n start_ms: 104390\n end_ms: 107060\n- text: I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n start_ms: 107060\n end_ms: 109760\n- text: And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n start_ms: 109760\n end_ms: 112430\n- text: Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n start_ms: 112430\n end_ms: 115140\n- text: And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n start_ms: 115140\n end_ms: 118840\n- text: Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n start_ms: 118840\n end_ms: 120620\n- text: Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n start_ms: 120620\n end_ms: 124370\n- text: The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n start_ms: 124370\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 129800\n- text: All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n start_ms: 129800\n end_ms: 132540\n- text: Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n start_ms: 132540\n end_ms: 135200\n- text: Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n start_ms: 135200\n end_ms: 137980\n- text: For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n start_ms: 137980\n end_ms: 140660\n- text: If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n start_ms: 140660\n end_ms: 142570\n- text: Dang... I don't even understand\n start_ms: 142570\n end_ms: 146180\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 146180\n end_ms: 147030\n- text: Lord, help me out now\n start_ms: 147030\n end_ms: 148800\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 148800\n end_ms: 151530\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 151530\n end_ms: 154300\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 154300\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 158930\n- text: 'Outro:'\n start_ms: 158930\n end_ms: 167940\n- text: Check it out\n start_ms: 167940\n end_ms: 168840\n- text: Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n start_ms: 168840\n end_ms: 171510\n- text: Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n start_ms: 171510\n end_ms: 174260\n- text: And rest in peace to my man Juice\n start_ms: 174260\n end_ms: 176080\n- text: Three strikes\n start_ms: 176080\n end_ms: 177860\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 177860\nplain: |-\n Lawd, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n (Pharoahe Monch)\n I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n For her soul she would search\n Five years later now I'm off to work\n In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n . Instead of doing crimes\n Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n But we will soon one day, until then\n I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lawd, help me out-ah\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n (Prince Poetry)\n Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n Dang... I don't even understand\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lord, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n Outro:\n\n Check it out\n Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n And rest in peace to my man Juice\n Three strikes\n"},{"id":20891414,"name":"Black Sunday","trackName":"Black Sunday","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress (The Extinction Agenda)","duration":188.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Lawd, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nI used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\nFor her soul she would search\nFive years later now I'm off to work\nIn a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\nAt the end of the week-ah, lawd\nJust enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\nThat's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\nBe kickin that fat funk shit;\nBlack, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\nCause the boss is boss and need is costing me\nTo miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\nTo be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\nAt this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n. Instead of doing crimes\nNineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\nOrganized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\nBut we will soon one day, until then\nI return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\nChorus:\n\nLawd, help me out-ah\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\n(Prince Poetry)\nYeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\nDelete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\nWe came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\nStill have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\nCrack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\nI used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\nI year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\nAnd? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\nEncouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\nAnd Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\nSour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\nTwo apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\nThe state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\nI gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\nAll-in, gotta make papes and all that\nClose my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\nOld snake shit, hissin in the grass\nFor the cash, little cents, intuition listen\nIf you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\nDang... I don't even understand\n\nChorus:\n\nLord, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\nOutro:\n\nCheck it out\nLike to say whassup to my whole herd\nLike to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\nAnd rest in peace to my man Juice\nThree strikes","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.98] Lawd, help me out now\n[00:02.71] We gotta get together\n[00:05.47] We gotta Organize\n[00:08.11] No matter the weather\n[00:10.95] It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n[00:12.74] (Pharoahe Monch)\n[00:17.25] I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n[00:20.87] For her soul she would search\n[00:22.77] Five years later now I'm off to work\n[00:25.44] In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n[00:29.07] At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n[00:30.87] Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n[00:34.48] That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n[00:37.13] \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n[00:39.83] Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n[00:42.68] Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n[00:46.26] Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n[00:48.92] To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n[00:51.67] To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n[00:56.22] At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n[00:59.86] . Instead of doing crimes\n[01:02.50] Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n[01:04.38] Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n[01:08.03] But we will soon one day, until then\n[01:10.76] I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n[01:13.46] Chorus:\n[01:15.21] Lawd, help me out-ah\n[01:16.19] We gotta get together\n[01:18.83] We gotta Organize\n[01:21.52] No matter the weather\n[01:24.37] It's a Black Sunday\n[01:26.12] (Prince Poetry)\n[01:28.83] Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n[01:33.44] Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n[01:36.13] We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n[01:38.89] Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n[01:41.69] Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n[01:44.39] I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n[01:47.06] I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n[01:49.76] And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n[01:52.43] Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n[01:55.14] And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n[01:58.84] Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n[02:00.62] Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n[02:04.37] The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n[02:06.18] I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n[02:09.80] All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n[02:12.54] Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n[02:15.20] Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n[02:17.98] For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n[02:20.66] If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n[02:22.57] Dang... I don't even understand\n[02:26.18] Chorus:\n[02:27.03] Lord, help me out now\n[02:28.80] We gotta get together\n[02:31.53] We gotta Organize\n[02:34.30] No matter the weather\n[02:37.02] It's a Black Sunday\n[02:38.93] Outro:\n[02:47.94] Check it out\n[02:48.84] Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n[02:51.51] Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n[02:54.26] And rest in peace to my man Juice\n[02:56.08] Three strikes\n[02:57.86] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Black Sunday\n artist: Organized Konfusion\n album: Stress (The Extinction Agenda)\n duration_ms: 188000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Lawd, help me out now\n start_ms: 980\n end_ms: 2710\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 2710\n end_ms: 5470\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 5470\n end_ms: 8110\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 8110\n end_ms: 10950\n- text: It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n start_ms: 10950\n end_ms: 12740\n- text: (Pharoahe Monch)\n start_ms: 12740\n end_ms: 17250\n- text: I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n start_ms: 17250\n end_ms: 20870\n- text: For her soul she would search\n start_ms: 20870\n end_ms: 22770\n- text: Five years later now I'm off to work\n start_ms: 22770\n end_ms: 25440\n- text: In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n start_ms: 25440\n end_ms: 29070\n- text: At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n start_ms: 29070\n end_ms: 30870\n- text: Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n start_ms: 30870\n end_ms: 34480\n- text: That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n start_ms: 34480\n end_ms: 37130\n- text: '\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I''ma.'\n start_ms: 37130\n end_ms: 39830\n- text: Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n start_ms: 39830\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 46260\n- text: Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n start_ms: 46260\n end_ms: 48920\n- text: To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n start_ms: 48920\n end_ms: 51670\n- text: To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n start_ms: 51670\n end_ms: 56220\n- text: At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n start_ms: 56220\n end_ms: 59860\n- text: . Instead of doing crimes\n start_ms: 59860\n end_ms: 62500\n- text: Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n start_ms: 62500\n end_ms: 64380\n- text: Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n start_ms: 64380\n end_ms: 68030\n- text: But we will soon one day, until then\n start_ms: 68030\n end_ms: 70760\n- text: I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n start_ms: 70760\n end_ms: 73460\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 73460\n end_ms: 75210\n- text: Lawd, help me out-ah\n start_ms: 75210\n end_ms: 76190\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 76190\n end_ms: 78830\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 78830\n end_ms: 81520\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 81520\n end_ms: 84370\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 84370\n end_ms: 86120\n- text: (Prince Poetry)\n start_ms: 86120\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 93440\n- text: Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n start_ms: 93440\n end_ms: 96130\n- text: We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n start_ms: 96130\n end_ms: 98890\n- text: Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n start_ms: 98890\n end_ms: 101690\n- text: Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n start_ms: 101690\n end_ms: 104390\n- text: I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n start_ms: 104390\n end_ms: 107060\n- text: I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n start_ms: 107060\n end_ms: 109760\n- text: And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n start_ms: 109760\n end_ms: 112430\n- text: Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n start_ms: 112430\n end_ms: 115140\n- text: And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n start_ms: 115140\n end_ms: 118840\n- text: Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n start_ms: 118840\n end_ms: 120620\n- text: Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n start_ms: 120620\n end_ms: 124370\n- text: The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n start_ms: 124370\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 129800\n- text: All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n start_ms: 129800\n end_ms: 132540\n- text: Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n start_ms: 132540\n end_ms: 135200\n- text: Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n start_ms: 135200\n end_ms: 137980\n- text: For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n start_ms: 137980\n end_ms: 140660\n- text: If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n start_ms: 140660\n end_ms: 142570\n- text: Dang... I don't even understand\n start_ms: 142570\n end_ms: 146180\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 146180\n end_ms: 147030\n- text: Lord, help me out now\n start_ms: 147030\n end_ms: 148800\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 148800\n end_ms: 151530\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 151530\n end_ms: 154300\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 154300\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 158930\n- text: 'Outro:'\n start_ms: 158930\n end_ms: 167940\n- text: Check it out\n start_ms: 167940\n end_ms: 168840\n- text: Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n start_ms: 168840\n end_ms: 171510\n- text: Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n start_ms: 171510\n end_ms: 174260\n- text: And rest in peace to my man Juice\n start_ms: 174260\n end_ms: 176080\n- text: Three strikes\n start_ms: 176080\n end_ms: 177860\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 177860\nplain: |-\n Lawd, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n (Pharoahe Monch)\n I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n For her soul she would search\n Five years later now I'm off to work\n In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n . Instead of doing crimes\n Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n But we will soon one day, until then\n I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lawd, help me out-ah\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n (Prince Poetry)\n Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n Dang... I don't even understand\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lord, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n Outro:\n\n Check it out\n Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n And rest in peace to my man Juice\n Three strikes\n"},{"id":23982811,"name":"Black Sunday","trackName":"Black Sunday","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Fluxblog 1994 Survey","duration":191.262766,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Lawd, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nI used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\nFor her soul she would search\nFive years later now I'm off to work\nIn a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\nAt the end of the week-ah, lawd\nJust enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\nThat's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\nBe kickin that fat funk shit;\nBlack, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\nCause the boss is boss and need is costing me\nTo miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\nTo be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\nAt this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n. Instead of doing crimes\nNineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\nOrganized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\nBut we will soon one day, until then\nI return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\nChorus:\n\nLawd, help me out-ah\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\n(Prince Poetry)\nYeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\nDelete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\nWe came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\nStill have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\nCrack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\nI used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\nI year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\nAnd? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\nEncouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\nAnd Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\nSour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\nTwo apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\nThe state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\nI gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\nAll-in, gotta make papes and all that\nClose my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\nOld snake shit, hissin in the grass\nFor the cash, little cents, intuition listen\nIf you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\nDang... I don't even understand\n\nChorus:\n\nLord, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\nOutro:\n\nCheck it out\nLike to say whassup to my whole herd\nLike to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\nAnd rest in peace to my man Juice\nThree strikes","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.98] Lawd, help me out now\n[00:02.71] We gotta get together\n[00:05.47] We gotta Organize\n[00:08.11] No matter the weather\n[00:10.95] It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n[00:12.74] (Pharoahe Monch)\n[00:17.25] I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n[00:20.87] For her soul she would search\n[00:22.77] Five years later now I'm off to work\n[00:25.44] In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n[00:29.07] At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n[00:30.87] Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n[00:34.48] That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n[00:37.13] \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n[00:39.83] Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n[00:42.68] Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n[00:46.26] Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n[00:48.92] To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n[00:51.67] To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n[00:56.22] At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n[00:59.86] . Instead of doing crimes\n[01:02.50] Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n[01:04.38] Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n[01:08.03] But we will soon one day, until then\n[01:10.76] I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n[01:13.46] Chorus:\n[01:15.21] Lawd, help me out-ah\n[01:16.19] We gotta get together\n[01:18.83] We gotta Organize\n[01:21.52] No matter the weather\n[01:24.37] It's a Black Sunday\n[01:26.12] (Prince Poetry)\n[01:28.83] Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n[01:33.44] Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n[01:36.13] We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n[01:38.89] Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n[01:41.69] Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n[01:44.39] I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n[01:47.06] I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n[01:49.76] And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n[01:52.43] Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n[01:55.14] And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n[01:58.84] Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n[02:00.62] Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n[02:04.37] The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n[02:06.18] I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n[02:09.80] All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n[02:12.54] Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n[02:15.20] Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n[02:17.98] For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n[02:20.66] If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n[02:22.57] Dang... I don't even understand\n[02:26.18] Chorus:\n[02:27.03] Lord, help me out now\n[02:28.80] We gotta get together\n[02:31.53] We gotta Organize\n[02:34.30] No matter the weather\n[02:37.02] It's a Black Sunday\n[02:38.93] Outro:\n[02:47.94] Check it out\n[02:48.84] Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n[02:51.51] Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n[02:54.26] And rest in peace to my man Juice\n[02:56.08] Three strikes\n[02:57.86] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Black Sunday\n artist: Organized Konfusion\n album: Fluxblog 1994 Survey\n duration_ms: 191263\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Lawd, help me out now\n start_ms: 980\n end_ms: 2710\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 2710\n end_ms: 5470\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 5470\n end_ms: 8110\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 8110\n end_ms: 10950\n- text: It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n start_ms: 10950\n end_ms: 12740\n- text: (Pharoahe Monch)\n start_ms: 12740\n end_ms: 17250\n- text: I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n start_ms: 17250\n end_ms: 20870\n- text: For her soul she would search\n start_ms: 20870\n end_ms: 22770\n- text: Five years later now I'm off to work\n start_ms: 22770\n end_ms: 25440\n- text: In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n start_ms: 25440\n end_ms: 29070\n- text: At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n start_ms: 29070\n end_ms: 30870\n- text: Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n start_ms: 30870\n end_ms: 34480\n- text: That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n start_ms: 34480\n end_ms: 37130\n- text: '\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I''ma.'\n start_ms: 37130\n end_ms: 39830\n- text: Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n start_ms: 39830\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 46260\n- text: Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n start_ms: 46260\n end_ms: 48920\n- text: To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n start_ms: 48920\n end_ms: 51670\n- text: To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n start_ms: 51670\n end_ms: 56220\n- text: At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n start_ms: 56220\n end_ms: 59860\n- text: . Instead of doing crimes\n start_ms: 59860\n end_ms: 62500\n- text: Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n start_ms: 62500\n end_ms: 64380\n- text: Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n start_ms: 64380\n end_ms: 68030\n- text: But we will soon one day, until then\n start_ms: 68030\n end_ms: 70760\n- text: I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n start_ms: 70760\n end_ms: 73460\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 73460\n end_ms: 75210\n- text: Lawd, help me out-ah\n start_ms: 75210\n end_ms: 76190\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 76190\n end_ms: 78830\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 78830\n end_ms: 81520\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 81520\n end_ms: 84370\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 84370\n end_ms: 86120\n- text: (Prince Poetry)\n start_ms: 86120\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 93440\n- text: Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n start_ms: 93440\n end_ms: 96130\n- text: We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n start_ms: 96130\n end_ms: 98890\n- text: Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n start_ms: 98890\n end_ms: 101690\n- text: Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n start_ms: 101690\n end_ms: 104390\n- text: I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n start_ms: 104390\n end_ms: 107060\n- text: I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n start_ms: 107060\n end_ms: 109760\n- text: And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n start_ms: 109760\n end_ms: 112430\n- text: Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n start_ms: 112430\n end_ms: 115140\n- text: And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n start_ms: 115140\n end_ms: 118840\n- text: Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n start_ms: 118840\n end_ms: 120620\n- text: Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n start_ms: 120620\n end_ms: 124370\n- text: The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n start_ms: 124370\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 129800\n- text: All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n start_ms: 129800\n end_ms: 132540\n- text: Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n start_ms: 132540\n end_ms: 135200\n- text: Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n start_ms: 135200\n end_ms: 137980\n- text: For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n start_ms: 137980\n end_ms: 140660\n- text: If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n start_ms: 140660\n end_ms: 142570\n- text: Dang... I don't even understand\n start_ms: 142570\n end_ms: 146180\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 146180\n end_ms: 147030\n- text: Lord, help me out now\n start_ms: 147030\n end_ms: 148800\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 148800\n end_ms: 151530\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 151530\n end_ms: 154300\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 154300\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 158930\n- text: 'Outro:'\n start_ms: 158930\n end_ms: 167940\n- text: Check it out\n start_ms: 167940\n end_ms: 168840\n- text: Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n start_ms: 168840\n end_ms: 171510\n- text: Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n start_ms: 171510\n end_ms: 174260\n- text: And rest in peace to my man Juice\n start_ms: 174260\n end_ms: 176080\n- text: Three strikes\n start_ms: 176080\n end_ms: 177860\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 177860\nplain: |-\n Lawd, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n (Pharoahe Monch)\n I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n For her soul she would search\n Five years later now I'm off to work\n In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n . Instead of doing crimes\n Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n But we will soon one day, until then\n I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lawd, help me out-ah\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n (Prince Poetry)\n Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n Dang... I don't even understand\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lord, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n Outro:\n\n Check it out\n Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n And rest in peace to my man Juice\n Three strikes\n"},{"id":22533976,"name":"Black Sunday","trackName":"Black Sunday","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress: The Extinction Agenda (deluxe redux)","duration":87.52,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Lawd, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nI used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\nFor her soul she would search\nFive years later now I'm off to work\nIn a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\nAt the end of the week-ah, lawd\nJust enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\nThat's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\nBe kickin that fat funk shit;\nBlack, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\nCause the boss is boss and need is costing me\nTo miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\nTo be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\nAt this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n. Instead of doing crimes\nNineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\nOrganized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\nBut we will soon one day, until then\nI return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\nChorus:\n\nLawd, help me out-ah\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\n(Prince Poetry)\nYeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\nDelete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\nWe came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\nStill have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\nCrack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\nI used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\nI year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\nAnd? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\nEncouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\nAnd Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\nSour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\nTwo apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\nThe state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\nI gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\nAll-in, gotta make papes and all that\nClose my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\nOld snake shit, hissin in the grass\nFor the cash, little cents, intuition listen\nIf you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\nDang... I don't even understand\n\nChorus:\n\nLord, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\nOutro:\n\nCheck it out\nLike to say whassup to my whole herd\nLike to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\nAnd rest in peace to my man Juice\nThree strikes","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.98] Lawd, help me out now\n[00:02.71] We gotta get together\n[00:05.47] We gotta Organize\n[00:08.11] No matter the weather\n[00:10.95] It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n[00:12.74] (Pharoahe Monch)\n[00:17.25] I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n[00:20.87] For her soul she would search\n[00:22.77] Five years later now I'm off to work\n[00:25.44] In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n[00:29.07] At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n[00:30.87] Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n[00:34.48] That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n[00:37.13] \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n[00:39.83] Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n[00:42.68] Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n[00:46.26] Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n[00:48.92] To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n[00:51.67] To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n[00:56.22] At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n[00:59.86] . Instead of doing crimes\n[01:02.50] Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n[01:04.38] Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n[01:08.03] But we will soon one day, until then\n[01:10.76] I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n[01:13.46] Chorus:\n[01:15.21] Lawd, help me out-ah\n[01:16.19] We gotta get together\n[01:18.83] We gotta Organize\n[01:21.52] No matter the weather\n[01:24.37] It's a Black Sunday\n[01:26.12] (Prince Poetry)\n[01:28.83] Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n[01:33.44] Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n[01:36.13] We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n[01:38.89] Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n[01:41.69] Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n[01:44.39] I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n[01:47.06] I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n[01:49.76] And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n[01:52.43] Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n[01:55.14] And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n[01:58.84] Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n[02:00.62] Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n[02:04.37] The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n[02:06.18] I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n[02:09.80] All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n[02:12.54] Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n[02:15.20] Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n[02:17.98] For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n[02:20.66] If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n[02:22.57] Dang... I don't even understand\n[02:26.18] Chorus:\n[02:27.03] Lord, help me out now\n[02:28.80] We gotta get together\n[02:31.53] We gotta Organize\n[02:34.30] No matter the weather\n[02:37.02] It's a Black Sunday\n[02:38.93] Outro:\n[02:47.94] Check it out\n[02:48.84] Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n[02:51.51] Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n[02:54.26] And rest in peace to my man Juice\n[02:56.08] Three strikes\n[02:57.86] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Black Sunday\n artist: Organized Konfusion\n album: 'Stress: The Extinction Agenda (deluxe redux)'\n duration_ms: 87520\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Lawd, help me out now\n start_ms: 980\n end_ms: 2710\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 2710\n end_ms: 5470\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 5470\n end_ms: 8110\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 8110\n end_ms: 10950\n- text: It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n start_ms: 10950\n end_ms: 12740\n- text: (Pharoahe Monch)\n start_ms: 12740\n end_ms: 17250\n- text: I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n start_ms: 17250\n end_ms: 20870\n- text: For her soul she would search\n start_ms: 20870\n end_ms: 22770\n- text: Five years later now I'm off to work\n start_ms: 22770\n end_ms: 25440\n- text: In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n start_ms: 25440\n end_ms: 29070\n- text: At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n start_ms: 29070\n end_ms: 30870\n- text: Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n start_ms: 30870\n end_ms: 34480\n- text: That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n start_ms: 34480\n end_ms: 37130\n- text: '\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I''ma.'\n start_ms: 37130\n end_ms: 39830\n- text: Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n start_ms: 39830\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 46260\n- text: Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n start_ms: 46260\n end_ms: 48920\n- text: To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n start_ms: 48920\n end_ms: 51670\n- text: To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n start_ms: 51670\n end_ms: 56220\n- text: At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n start_ms: 56220\n end_ms: 59860\n- text: . Instead of doing crimes\n start_ms: 59860\n end_ms: 62500\n- text: Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n start_ms: 62500\n end_ms: 64380\n- text: Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n start_ms: 64380\n end_ms: 68030\n- text: But we will soon one day, until then\n start_ms: 68030\n end_ms: 70760\n- text: I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n start_ms: 70760\n end_ms: 73460\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 73460\n end_ms: 75210\n- text: Lawd, help me out-ah\n start_ms: 75210\n end_ms: 76190\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 76190\n end_ms: 78830\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 78830\n end_ms: 81520\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 81520\n end_ms: 84370\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 84370\n end_ms: 86120\n- text: (Prince Poetry)\n start_ms: 86120\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 93440\n- text: Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n start_ms: 93440\n end_ms: 96130\n- text: We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n start_ms: 96130\n end_ms: 98890\n- text: Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n start_ms: 98890\n end_ms: 101690\n- text: Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n start_ms: 101690\n end_ms: 104390\n- text: I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n start_ms: 104390\n end_ms: 107060\n- text: I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n start_ms: 107060\n end_ms: 109760\n- text: And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n start_ms: 109760\n end_ms: 112430\n- text: Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n start_ms: 112430\n end_ms: 115140\n- text: And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n start_ms: 115140\n end_ms: 118840\n- text: Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n start_ms: 118840\n end_ms: 120620\n- text: Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n start_ms: 120620\n end_ms: 124370\n- text: The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n start_ms: 124370\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 129800\n- text: All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n start_ms: 129800\n end_ms: 132540\n- text: Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n start_ms: 132540\n end_ms: 135200\n- text: Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n start_ms: 135200\n end_ms: 137980\n- text: For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n start_ms: 137980\n end_ms: 140660\n- text: If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n start_ms: 140660\n end_ms: 142570\n- text: Dang... I don't even understand\n start_ms: 142570\n end_ms: 146180\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 146180\n end_ms: 147030\n- text: Lord, help me out now\n start_ms: 147030\n end_ms: 148800\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 148800\n end_ms: 151530\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 151530\n end_ms: 154300\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 154300\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 158930\n- text: 'Outro:'\n start_ms: 158930\n end_ms: 167940\n- text: Check it out\n start_ms: 167940\n end_ms: 168840\n- text: Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n start_ms: 168840\n end_ms: 171510\n- text: Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n start_ms: 171510\n end_ms: 174260\n- text: And rest in peace to my man Juice\n start_ms: 174260\n end_ms: 176080\n- text: Three strikes\n start_ms: 176080\n end_ms: 177860\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 177860\nplain: |-\n Lawd, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n (Pharoahe Monch)\n I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n For her soul she would search\n Five years later now I'm off to work\n In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n . Instead of doing crimes\n Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n But we will soon one day, until then\n I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lawd, help me out-ah\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n (Prince Poetry)\n Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n Dang... I don't even understand\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lord, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n Outro:\n\n Check it out\n Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n And rest in peace to my man Juice\n Three strikes\n"},{"id":26162089,"name":"Black Sunday","trackName":"Black Sunday","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress : The Extinction Agenda (30th Anniversary Deluxe Edition)","duration":191.2,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Lawd, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nI used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\nFor her soul she would search\nFive years later now I'm off to work\nIn a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\nAt the end of the week-ah, lawd\nJust enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\nThat's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\nBe kickin that fat funk shit;\nBlack, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\nCause the boss is boss and need is costing me\nTo miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\nTo be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\nAt this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n. Instead of doing crimes\nNineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\nOrganized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\nBut we will soon one day, until then\nI return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\nChorus:\n\nLawd, help me out-ah\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\n(Prince Poetry)\nYeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\nDelete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\nWe came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\nStill have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\nCrack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\nI used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\nI year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\nAnd? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\nEncouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\nAnd Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\nSour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\nTwo apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\nThe state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\nI gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\nAll-in, gotta make papes and all that\nClose my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\nOld snake shit, hissin in the grass\nFor the cash, little cents, intuition listen\nIf you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\nDang... I don't even understand\n\nChorus:\n\nLord, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\nOutro:\n\nCheck it out\nLike to say whassup to my whole herd\nLike to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\nAnd rest in peace to my man Juice\nThree strikes","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.98] Lawd, help me out now\n[00:02.71] We gotta get together\n[00:05.47] We gotta Organize\n[00:08.11] No matter the weather\n[00:10.95] It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n[00:12.74] (Pharoahe Monch)\n[00:17.25] I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n[00:20.87] For her soul she would search\n[00:22.77] Five years later now I'm off to work\n[00:25.44] In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n[00:29.07] At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n[00:30.87] Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n[00:34.48] That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n[00:37.13] \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n[00:39.83] Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n[00:42.68] Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n[00:46.26] Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n[00:48.92] To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n[00:51.67] To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n[00:56.22] At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n[00:59.86] . Instead of doing crimes\n[01:02.50] Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n[01:04.38] Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n[01:08.03] But we will soon one day, until then\n[01:10.76] I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n[01:13.46] Chorus:\n[01:15.21] Lawd, help me out-ah\n[01:16.19] We gotta get together\n[01:18.83] We gotta Organize\n[01:21.52] No matter the weather\n[01:24.37] It's a Black Sunday\n[01:26.12] (Prince Poetry)\n[01:28.83] Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n[01:33.44] Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n[01:36.13] We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n[01:38.89] Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n[01:41.69] Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n[01:44.39] I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n[01:47.06] I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n[01:49.76] And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n[01:52.43] Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n[01:55.14] And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n[01:58.84] Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n[02:00.62] Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n[02:04.37] The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n[02:06.18] I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n[02:09.80] All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n[02:12.54] Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n[02:15.20] Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n[02:17.98] For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n[02:20.66] If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n[02:22.57] Dang... I don't even understand\n[02:26.18] Chorus:\n[02:27.03] Lord, help me out now\n[02:28.80] We gotta get together\n[02:31.53] We gotta Organize\n[02:34.30] No matter the weather\n[02:37.02] It's a Black Sunday\n[02:38.93] Outro:\n[02:47.94] Check it out\n[02:48.84] Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n[02:51.51] Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n[02:54.26] And rest in peace to my man Juice\n[02:56.08] Three strikes\n[02:57.86] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Black Sunday\n artist: Organized Konfusion\n album: 'Stress : The Extinction Agenda (30th Anniversary Deluxe Edition)'\n duration_ms: 191200\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Lawd, help me out now\n start_ms: 980\n end_ms: 2710\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 2710\n end_ms: 5470\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 5470\n end_ms: 8110\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 8110\n end_ms: 10950\n- text: It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n start_ms: 10950\n end_ms: 12740\n- text: (Pharoahe Monch)\n start_ms: 12740\n end_ms: 17250\n- text: I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n start_ms: 17250\n end_ms: 20870\n- text: For her soul she would search\n start_ms: 20870\n end_ms: 22770\n- text: Five years later now I'm off to work\n start_ms: 22770\n end_ms: 25440\n- text: In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n start_ms: 25440\n end_ms: 29070\n- text: At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n start_ms: 29070\n end_ms: 30870\n- text: Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n start_ms: 30870\n end_ms: 34480\n- text: That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n start_ms: 34480\n end_ms: 37130\n- text: '\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I''ma.'\n start_ms: 37130\n end_ms: 39830\n- text: Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n start_ms: 39830\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 46260\n- text: Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n start_ms: 46260\n end_ms: 48920\n- text: To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n start_ms: 48920\n end_ms: 51670\n- text: To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n start_ms: 51670\n end_ms: 56220\n- text: At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n start_ms: 56220\n end_ms: 59860\n- text: . Instead of doing crimes\n start_ms: 59860\n end_ms: 62500\n- text: Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n start_ms: 62500\n end_ms: 64380\n- text: Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n start_ms: 64380\n end_ms: 68030\n- text: But we will soon one day, until then\n start_ms: 68030\n end_ms: 70760\n- text: I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n start_ms: 70760\n end_ms: 73460\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 73460\n end_ms: 75210\n- text: Lawd, help me out-ah\n start_ms: 75210\n end_ms: 76190\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 76190\n end_ms: 78830\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 78830\n end_ms: 81520\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 81520\n end_ms: 84370\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 84370\n end_ms: 86120\n- text: (Prince Poetry)\n start_ms: 86120\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 93440\n- text: Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n start_ms: 93440\n end_ms: 96130\n- text: We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n start_ms: 96130\n end_ms: 98890\n- text: Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n start_ms: 98890\n end_ms: 101690\n- text: Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n start_ms: 101690\n end_ms: 104390\n- text: I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n start_ms: 104390\n end_ms: 107060\n- text: I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n start_ms: 107060\n end_ms: 109760\n- text: And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n start_ms: 109760\n end_ms: 112430\n- text: Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n start_ms: 112430\n end_ms: 115140\n- text: And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n start_ms: 115140\n end_ms: 118840\n- text: Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n start_ms: 118840\n end_ms: 120620\n- text: Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n start_ms: 120620\n end_ms: 124370\n- text: The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n start_ms: 124370\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 129800\n- text: All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n start_ms: 129800\n end_ms: 132540\n- text: Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n start_ms: 132540\n end_ms: 135200\n- text: Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n start_ms: 135200\n end_ms: 137980\n- text: For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n start_ms: 137980\n end_ms: 140660\n- text: If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n start_ms: 140660\n end_ms: 142570\n- text: Dang... I don't even understand\n start_ms: 142570\n end_ms: 146180\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 146180\n end_ms: 147030\n- text: Lord, help me out now\n start_ms: 147030\n end_ms: 148800\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 148800\n end_ms: 151530\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 151530\n end_ms: 154300\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 154300\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 158930\n- text: 'Outro:'\n start_ms: 158930\n end_ms: 167940\n- text: Check it out\n start_ms: 167940\n end_ms: 168840\n- text: Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n start_ms: 168840\n end_ms: 171510\n- text: Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n start_ms: 171510\n end_ms: 174260\n- text: And rest in peace to my man Juice\n start_ms: 174260\n end_ms: 176080\n- text: Three strikes\n start_ms: 176080\n end_ms: 177860\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 177860\nplain: |-\n Lawd, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n (Pharoahe Monch)\n I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n For her soul she would search\n Five years later now I'm off to work\n In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n . Instead of doing crimes\n Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n But we will soon one day, until then\n I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lawd, help me out-ah\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n (Prince Poetry)\n Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n Dang... I don't even understand\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lord, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n Outro:\n\n Check it out\n Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n And rest in peace to my man Juice\n Three strikes\n"},{"id":25631347,"name":"Black Sunday","trackName":"Black Sunday","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress: The Extinction Agenda (deluxe redux)","duration":187.585306,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Lawd, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nI used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\nFor her soul she would search\nFive years later now I'm off to work\nIn a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\nAt the end of the week-ah, lawd\nJust enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\nThat's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\nBe kickin that fat funk shit;\nBlack, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\nCause the boss is boss and need is costing me\nTo miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\nTo be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\nAt this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n. Instead of doing crimes\nNineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\nOrganized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\nBut we will soon one day, until then\nI return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\nChorus:\n\nLawd, help me out-ah\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\n(Prince Poetry)\nYeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\nDelete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\nWe came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\nStill have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\nCrack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\nI used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\nI year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\nAnd? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\nEncouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\nAnd Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\nSour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\nTwo apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\nThe state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\nI gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\nAll-in, gotta make papes and all that\nClose my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\nOld snake shit, hissin in the grass\nFor the cash, little cents, intuition listen\nIf you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\nDang... I don't even understand\n\nChorus:\n\nLord, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\nOutro:\n\nCheck it out\nLike to say whassup to my whole herd\nLike to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\nAnd rest in peace to my man Juice\nThree strikes","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.98] Lawd, help me out now\n[00:02.71] We gotta get together\n[00:05.47] We gotta Organize\n[00:08.11] No matter the weather\n[00:10.95] It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n[00:12.74] (Pharoahe Monch)\n[00:17.25] I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n[00:20.87] For her soul she would search\n[00:22.77] Five years later now I'm off to work\n[00:25.44] In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n[00:29.07] At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n[00:30.87] Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n[00:34.48] That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n[00:37.13] \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n[00:39.83] Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n[00:42.68] Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n[00:46.26] Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n[00:48.92] To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n[00:51.67] To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n[00:56.22] At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n[00:59.86] . Instead of doing crimes\n[01:02.50] Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n[01:04.38] Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n[01:08.03] But we will soon one day, until then\n[01:10.76] I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n[01:13.46] Chorus:\n[01:15.21] Lawd, help me out-ah\n[01:16.19] We gotta get together\n[01:18.83] We gotta Organize\n[01:21.52] No matter the weather\n[01:24.37] It's a Black Sunday\n[01:26.12] (Prince Poetry)\n[01:28.83] Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n[01:33.44] Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n[01:36.13] We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n[01:38.89] Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n[01:41.69] Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n[01:44.39] I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n[01:47.06] I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n[01:49.76] And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n[01:52.43] Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n[01:55.14] And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n[01:58.84] Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n[02:00.62] Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n[02:04.37] The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n[02:06.18] I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n[02:09.80] All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n[02:12.54] Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n[02:15.20] Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n[02:17.98] For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n[02:20.66] If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n[02:22.57] Dang... I don't even understand\n[02:26.18] Chorus:\n[02:27.03] Lord, help me out now\n[02:28.80] We gotta get together\n[02:31.53] We gotta Organize\n[02:34.30] No matter the weather\n[02:37.02] It's a Black Sunday\n[02:38.93] Outro:\n[02:47.94] Check it out\n[02:48.84] Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n[02:51.51] Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n[02:54.26] And rest in peace to my man Juice\n[02:56.08] Three strikes\n[02:57.86] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Black Sunday\n artist: Organized Konfusion\n album: 'Stress: The Extinction Agenda (deluxe redux)'\n duration_ms: 187585\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Lawd, help me out now\n start_ms: 980\n end_ms: 2710\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 2710\n end_ms: 5470\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 5470\n end_ms: 8110\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 8110\n end_ms: 10950\n- text: It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n start_ms: 10950\n end_ms: 12740\n- text: (Pharoahe Monch)\n start_ms: 12740\n end_ms: 17250\n- text: I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n start_ms: 17250\n end_ms: 20870\n- text: For her soul she would search\n start_ms: 20870\n end_ms: 22770\n- text: Five years later now I'm off to work\n start_ms: 22770\n end_ms: 25440\n- text: In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n start_ms: 25440\n end_ms: 29070\n- text: At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n start_ms: 29070\n end_ms: 30870\n- text: Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n start_ms: 30870\n end_ms: 34480\n- text: That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n start_ms: 34480\n end_ms: 37130\n- text: '\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I''ma.'\n start_ms: 37130\n end_ms: 39830\n- text: Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n start_ms: 39830\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 46260\n- text: Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n start_ms: 46260\n end_ms: 48920\n- text: To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n start_ms: 48920\n end_ms: 51670\n- text: To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n start_ms: 51670\n end_ms: 56220\n- text: At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n start_ms: 56220\n end_ms: 59860\n- text: . Instead of doing crimes\n start_ms: 59860\n end_ms: 62500\n- text: Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n start_ms: 62500\n end_ms: 64380\n- text: Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n start_ms: 64380\n end_ms: 68030\n- text: But we will soon one day, until then\n start_ms: 68030\n end_ms: 70760\n- text: I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n start_ms: 70760\n end_ms: 73460\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 73460\n end_ms: 75210\n- text: Lawd, help me out-ah\n start_ms: 75210\n end_ms: 76190\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 76190\n end_ms: 78830\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 78830\n end_ms: 81520\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 81520\n end_ms: 84370\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 84370\n end_ms: 86120\n- text: (Prince Poetry)\n start_ms: 86120\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 93440\n- text: Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n start_ms: 93440\n end_ms: 96130\n- text: We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n start_ms: 96130\n end_ms: 98890\n- text: Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n start_ms: 98890\n end_ms: 101690\n- text: Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n start_ms: 101690\n end_ms: 104390\n- text: I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n start_ms: 104390\n end_ms: 107060\n- text: I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n start_ms: 107060\n end_ms: 109760\n- text: And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n start_ms: 109760\n end_ms: 112430\n- text: Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n start_ms: 112430\n end_ms: 115140\n- text: And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n start_ms: 115140\n end_ms: 118840\n- text: Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n start_ms: 118840\n end_ms: 120620\n- text: Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n start_ms: 120620\n end_ms: 124370\n- text: The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n start_ms: 124370\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 129800\n- text: All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n start_ms: 129800\n end_ms: 132540\n- text: Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n start_ms: 132540\n end_ms: 135200\n- text: Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n start_ms: 135200\n end_ms: 137980\n- text: For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n start_ms: 137980\n end_ms: 140660\n- text: If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n start_ms: 140660\n end_ms: 142570\n- text: Dang... I don't even understand\n start_ms: 142570\n end_ms: 146180\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 146180\n end_ms: 147030\n- text: Lord, help me out now\n start_ms: 147030\n end_ms: 148800\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 148800\n end_ms: 151530\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 151530\n end_ms: 154300\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 154300\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 158930\n- text: 'Outro:'\n start_ms: 158930\n end_ms: 167940\n- text: Check it out\n start_ms: 167940\n end_ms: 168840\n- text: Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n start_ms: 168840\n end_ms: 171510\n- text: Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n start_ms: 171510\n end_ms: 174260\n- text: And rest in peace to my man Juice\n start_ms: 174260\n end_ms: 176080\n- text: Three strikes\n start_ms: 176080\n end_ms: 177860\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 177860\nplain: |-\n Lawd, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n (Pharoahe Monch)\n I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n For her soul she would search\n Five years later now I'm off to work\n In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n . Instead of doing crimes\n Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n But we will soon one day, until then\n I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lawd, help me out-ah\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n (Prince Poetry)\n Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n Dang... I don't even understand\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lord, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n Outro:\n\n Check it out\n Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n And rest in peace to my man Juice\n Three strikes\n"},{"id":28084116,"name":"Black Sunday","trackName":"Black Sunday","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress : The Extinction Agenda (30th Anniversary Deluxe Edition)","duration":188.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Lawd, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nI used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\nFor her soul she would search\nFive years later now I'm off to work\nIn a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\nAt the end of the week-ah, lawd\nJust enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\nThat's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\nBe kickin that fat funk shit;\nBlack, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\nCause the boss is boss and need is costing me\nTo miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\nTo be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\nAt this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n. Instead of doing crimes\nNineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\nOrganized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\nBut we will soon one day, until then\nI return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\nChorus:\n\nLawd, help me out-ah\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\n(Prince Poetry)\nYeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\nDelete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\nWe came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\nStill have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\nCrack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\nI used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\nI year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\nAnd? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\nEncouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\nAnd Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\nSour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\nTwo apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\nThe state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\nI gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\nAll-in, gotta make papes and all that\nClose my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\nOld snake shit, hissin in the grass\nFor the cash, little cents, intuition listen\nIf you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\nDang... I don't even understand\n\nChorus:\n\nLord, help me out now\nWe gotta get together\nWe gotta Organize\nNo matter the weather\nIt's a Black Sunday\n\nOutro:\n\nCheck it out\nLike to say whassup to my whole herd\nLike to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\nAnd rest in peace to my man Juice\nThree strikes","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.98] Lawd, help me out now\n[00:02.71] We gotta get together\n[00:05.47] We gotta Organize\n[00:08.11] No matter the weather\n[00:10.95] It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n[00:12.74] (Pharoahe Monch)\n[00:17.25] I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n[00:20.87] For her soul she would search\n[00:22.77] Five years later now I'm off to work\n[00:25.44] In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n[00:29.07] At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n[00:30.87] Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n[00:34.48] That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n[00:37.13] \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n[00:39.83] Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n[00:42.68] Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n[00:46.26] Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n[00:48.92] To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n[00:51.67] To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n[00:56.22] At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n[00:59.86] . Instead of doing crimes\n[01:02.50] Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n[01:04.38] Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n[01:08.03] But we will soon one day, until then\n[01:10.76] I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n[01:13.46] Chorus:\n[01:15.21] Lawd, help me out-ah\n[01:16.19] We gotta get together\n[01:18.83] We gotta Organize\n[01:21.52] No matter the weather\n[01:24.37] It's a Black Sunday\n[01:26.12] (Prince Poetry)\n[01:28.83] Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n[01:33.44] Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n[01:36.13] We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n[01:38.89] Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n[01:41.69] Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n[01:44.39] I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n[01:47.06] I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n[01:49.76] And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n[01:52.43] Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n[01:55.14] And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n[01:58.84] Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n[02:00.62] Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n[02:04.37] The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n[02:06.18] I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n[02:09.80] All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n[02:12.54] Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n[02:15.20] Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n[02:17.98] For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n[02:20.66] If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n[02:22.57] Dang... I don't even understand\n[02:26.18] Chorus:\n[02:27.03] Lord, help me out now\n[02:28.80] We gotta get together\n[02:31.53] We gotta Organize\n[02:34.30] No matter the weather\n[02:37.02] It's a Black Sunday\n[02:38.93] Outro:\n[02:47.94] Check it out\n[02:48.84] Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n[02:51.51] Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n[02:54.26] And rest in peace to my man Juice\n[02:56.08] Three strikes\n[02:57.86] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Black Sunday\n artist: Organized Konfusion\n album: 'Stress : The Extinction Agenda (30th Anniversary Deluxe Edition)'\n duration_ms: 188000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Lawd, help me out now\n start_ms: 980\n end_ms: 2710\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 2710\n end_ms: 5470\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 5470\n end_ms: 8110\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 8110\n end_ms: 10950\n- text: It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n start_ms: 10950\n end_ms: 12740\n- text: (Pharoahe Monch)\n start_ms: 12740\n end_ms: 17250\n- text: I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n start_ms: 17250\n end_ms: 20870\n- text: For her soul she would search\n start_ms: 20870\n end_ms: 22770\n- text: Five years later now I'm off to work\n start_ms: 22770\n end_ms: 25440\n- text: In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n start_ms: 25440\n end_ms: 29070\n- text: At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n start_ms: 29070\n end_ms: 30870\n- text: Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n start_ms: 30870\n end_ms: 34480\n- text: That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n start_ms: 34480\n end_ms: 37130\n- text: '\"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I''ma.'\n start_ms: 37130\n end_ms: 39830\n- text: Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n start_ms: 39830\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 46260\n- text: Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n start_ms: 46260\n end_ms: 48920\n- text: To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n start_ms: 48920\n end_ms: 51670\n- text: To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n start_ms: 51670\n end_ms: 56220\n- text: At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n start_ms: 56220\n end_ms: 59860\n- text: . Instead of doing crimes\n start_ms: 59860\n end_ms: 62500\n- text: Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n start_ms: 62500\n end_ms: 64380\n- text: Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n start_ms: 64380\n end_ms: 68030\n- text: But we will soon one day, until then\n start_ms: 68030\n end_ms: 70760\n- text: I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n start_ms: 70760\n end_ms: 73460\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 73460\n end_ms: 75210\n- text: Lawd, help me out-ah\n start_ms: 75210\n end_ms: 76190\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 76190\n end_ms: 78830\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 78830\n end_ms: 81520\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 81520\n end_ms: 84370\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 84370\n end_ms: 86120\n- text: (Prince Poetry)\n start_ms: 86120\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 93440\n- text: Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n start_ms: 93440\n end_ms: 96130\n- text: We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n start_ms: 96130\n end_ms: 98890\n- text: Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n start_ms: 98890\n end_ms: 101690\n- text: Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n start_ms: 101690\n end_ms: 104390\n- text: I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n start_ms: 104390\n end_ms: 107060\n- text: I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n start_ms: 107060\n end_ms: 109760\n- text: And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n start_ms: 109760\n end_ms: 112430\n- text: Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n start_ms: 112430\n end_ms: 115140\n- text: And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n start_ms: 115140\n end_ms: 118840\n- text: Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n start_ms: 118840\n end_ms: 120620\n- text: Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n start_ms: 120620\n end_ms: 124370\n- text: The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n start_ms: 124370\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 129800\n- text: All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n start_ms: 129800\n end_ms: 132540\n- text: Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n start_ms: 132540\n end_ms: 135200\n- text: Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n start_ms: 135200\n end_ms: 137980\n- text: For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n start_ms: 137980\n end_ms: 140660\n- text: If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n start_ms: 140660\n end_ms: 142570\n- text: Dang... I don't even understand\n start_ms: 142570\n end_ms: 146180\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n start_ms: 146180\n end_ms: 147030\n- text: Lord, help me out now\n start_ms: 147030\n end_ms: 148800\n- text: We gotta get together\n start_ms: 148800\n end_ms: 151530\n- text: We gotta Organize\n start_ms: 151530\n end_ms: 154300\n- text: No matter the weather\n start_ms: 154300\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: It's a Black Sunday\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 158930\n- text: 'Outro:'\n start_ms: 158930\n end_ms: 167940\n- text: Check it out\n start_ms: 167940\n end_ms: 168840\n- text: Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n start_ms: 168840\n end_ms: 171510\n- text: Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n start_ms: 171510\n end_ms: 174260\n- text: And rest in peace to my man Juice\n start_ms: 174260\n end_ms: 176080\n- text: Three strikes\n start_ms: 176080\n end_ms: 177860\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 177860\nplain: |-\n Lawd, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday, hey.\n\n (Pharoahe Monch)\n I used to watch my grandmother catch the Holy Ghost in church\n For her soul she would search\n Five years later now I'm off to work\n In a department store, I'm foldin pants and shirts-ah\n At the end of the week-ah, lawd\n Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet\n That's when I made a promise to my momma I said\n \"I betcha you see me at the Apollo one day and I'ma.\n Be kickin that fat funk shit;\n Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit\"\n Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me\n To miss classes and I feel he spoke to me\n To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?\n At this point in my life is where I chose to write rhymes.\n . Instead of doing crimes\n Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine\n Organized Konfusion, did not, get, signed\n But we will soon one day, until then\n I return at twelve at noon on the track, Black Sunday\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lawd, help me out-ah\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n (Prince Poetry)\n Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over\n Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda\n We came a long way and I'm still runnin for my freedom\n Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the\n Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby\n I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady\n I year later I made demo cassettes with the Monch\n And? Tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so I\n Encouraged Monch to start writing rhymes\n And Mrs. J cooked dinner then we came into same hard times\n Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate\n Two apes escaped, back to L.A. with our demo tape\n The state of mind I was in since Paul Sea died is that\n I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so I'm\n All-in, gotta make papes and all that\n Close my own record deal cause I can't fall for that\n Old snake shit, hissin in the grass\n For the cash, little cents, intuition listen\n If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin\n Dang... I don't even understand\n\n Chorus:\n\n Lord, help me out now\n We gotta get together\n We gotta Organize\n No matter the weather\n It's a Black Sunday\n\n Outro:\n\n Check it out\n Like to say whassup to my whole herd\n Like to say rest in peace to my man? Dilu?\n And rest in peace to my man Juice\n Three strikes\n"}]