Inner City Blues (Make Me Wanna Holler)

 This is a song that directly addresses the living situation in the inner city areas of America which are commonly referred to as ghettos. It was written by Marvin Gaye and James Nyx. The song has a very soulful sound just like most of the songs on the albums with Gaye playing the piano and the The Funk Brothers playing the other instruments.
In this song, Gaye sings about the difficult economic situation in the ghetto and he describes it to be so poor it makes him wanna holler and throw up his hands. Right at the beginning,the song criticizes the government for letting the people still suffer high taxation while it spends most of the money on buying war material like rockets, the "have nots". "This aint livin' this aint livin" Gaye sings as he portrays the picture of inner city life. He also point out the issue of individuals in the ghetto having too many bills to pay and how they naturally cannot pay taxes because of their low income, and how they are forced to send their sons off to war. At the end, the song projects the same feeling of uncertainity of what the future will be. With the crime rate rising and panic among the people, Gaye turns to God to reveal what lies in the future.

As shown by the  Lyrics:

Dah, dah, dah, dah
dah, dah, dah, dah, dah, dah, dah
Dah, dah, dah, dah
Dah, dah, dah, dah, dah, dah, dah
Dah, dah, dah
Rockets, moon shots
Spend it on the have nots
Money, we make it
Fore we see it you take it
Oh, make you wanna holler
The way they do my life
Make me wanna holler
The way they do my life
This ain't livin', This ain't livin'
No, no baby, this ain't livin'
No, no, no
Inflation no chance
To increase finance
Bills pile up sky high
Send that boy off to die
Make me wanna holler
The way they do my life
Make me wanna holler
The way they do my life
Dah, dah, dah
Dah, dah, dah
Hang ups, let downs
Bad breaks, set backs
Natural fact is
I can't pay my taxes
Oh, make me wanna holler
And throw up both my hands
Yea, it makes me wanna holler
And throw up both my hands
Crime is increasing
Trigger happy policing
Panic is spreading
God know where we're heading
Oh, make me wanna holler
They don't understand
Dah, dah, dah
Dah, dah, dah
Dah, dah, dah
Mother, mother
Everybody thinks we're wrong
Who are they to judge us
Simply cause we wear our hair long