Bangin’ this bolo tight on this solo flight
Can’t fight alone
Funk tha track my verbs fly like tha
Family stone
Tha pen devils set that stage for tha
War at home
Locked wit out a wage ya standin’ in tha drop
Zone
The clockers born startin’ at an empty plate
Momma’s torn hands cover her sunken face
We hungry but them belly full
The structure is set ya neva change it with a
Ballot pull
In tha ruins there’s a network for tha toxic
Rock
Shool yard ta precinct, suburb ta
Project block
Bosses broke south for new flesh and
A factory floor
The remains left chained to the
Powder war
Can’t waste a day when the night brings
A hearse
So make a move an plead the fifth ’cuse ya
Can’t plead the first
Can’t waste a day when the night brings
A hearse
So now I’m rollin’ down rodeo wit a
Shot gun these people ain’t seen a
Brown skin man since their grandparents bought
One
Bare witness to tha sickest shot while suckas
Get romantic
They gonna send us campin’ like they did my man
Fred hampton
Still we’re lampin’ still clockin’ dirt for our
Sweat
A ballots dead so bullets what I get
A thousand years you had the tools
We should be taken ’em
Fuck tha g ride I want the machines that are
Makin’ em
Our target straight wit a room full of armed
Pawn to
Off tha kings out tha west side at dawn
The rungs torn from the ladder can’t reach the
Tumor
One god, one market, one truth, one consumer
Just a quiet peaceful dance
For things we will never have
|
|
Printer Friendly Version
