Inner City Blues
Originally from Marvin Gaye's 1971 album What's Going On, the song was co-written by James Nyx, Jr.
Gil Scott Heron's augmented version is from his 1981 Reflections album and mixes in the story of a siege of New Orleans.
Rockets and moon shots
and blame it on the have-nots
Money, we made it
yeah but before we see it, they take it
Yes it make you wanna holler right on
The way they do your life
Make you wanna holler right on
The way they do your life
Inflation means there ain' no chance
To increase a little bit of finance
Bills they gonna pile up t' sky
And send that boy on to die
Yes, it make you wanna holler right on
The way they do your life
Make you wanna holler right on
The way they do your life
Now hang-ups and letdown
And bad breaks and setbacks
The natural, natural, fact is
oh baby, that I can't pay no taxes
yes it make me wanna holler some time
And throw up both my hands
It make me wanna holler some time
And throw up both my hands
So you say you never heard of the inner city blues
and what's more you don't understand it all
what the ghetto people mean
when they say "living behind walls"
Well then put on your best suit, white shirt and tie
and run on downtown to stand in line for
a job washing dishes that you may not qualify
walk a big hole in a brand new pair of shoes
and you've had your first look at the inner city blues
Go lookin for a place to live and all the while remember
what lurks behind the Devil's smile
are we stupid our just naïve that we continue to believe
money can buy us anything,
including a slice of the American dream?
Yeah, answer ads in the paper about houses for sale
and get treated like Charles Manson out on bail.
When you start to get frustrated by the tactics they use
you'll recognize the feeling: it's the inner city blues,
yeah make you wanna holler some time
throw up both of your hands
Haven't you ever wondered about why
some brothers and sisters were down & out?
Receiving their sympathy
from a bottle of wine or worse yet 'oral homicide'
living their lives in a glycine bag
or praising the mysteries of terminal scag
some of our brothers parading in drag
another set of victims too whipped to choose
yeah you can recognize that
that's the 'inner city blues'
makes you wanna holler sometimes
and throw up both your hands
To see sleek sisters, the blossoms of our African tree,
profilin' on the corner, talkin' 'bout 'ten and three'
because in spite of all the money we made, and taxes we paid
the woman was looking at hungry babes and some decisions had to be made.
Coz' you tell us:
"it's better go to your grave
as a slave with a minimum wage"
well, I hardly think so
but it makes you wanna holler sometimes
and throw up both your hands
what happens when people start to feel they have
nothing to lose (Uncle Sam wants you)
nothing to lose (Uncle Sam wants you)
nothing to lose (for target practice)
nothing to lose (for target practice)
Did you ever hear about Mark Essex
and the things that made him choose
to fight the inner city blues?
Yeah Essex took to the rooftops guerilla-style
and watched while all the crackers went wild
brought in 600 troops out here brand new
to see them crushed with fear.
Essex fought back with a thousand rounds
and New Orleans was a changing town
and ratatattattattat was the only sound, yeah
bring on the stoner rifles
to knock down walls
bring on the elephant guns
bring on the helicopters
to block out the sun
yeah, made the Devil wanna holler
coz 8 was dead and a dozen was down
and cries for freedom or a brand new sound
New York, Chicago, 'Frisco, LA.
Justice was served and the unjust were afraid
that after all the years and all the fears
brothers were alive, the courage found
and spreadin them goddam blues around
Yeah, make you want to holler 'black people'
and hold up both your hands and say 'liberation!'
Crime is increasin'
Trigger-happy policin'
Panic is, panic is spreading
and Lord knows where we're heading
Yes, it make you wanna holler sometimes
and throw up both of your hands.
Make you wanna holler some time
and throw up'n both of your hands.
Throw up both your hands (x5)
Throw up both your hands, hands, hands.
Lyrics: Gil Scott Heron, James Nyx Jr, Marvin Gaye