Lyrics:
wanna die next?
Nah, he wanna live, and he loves his kids
We got this rap game on lock, like a cake rock
Gimme the key, run up in your spot
Like, you
lives
Soon as they turn around another brother been shot down
When you black it always feel like a battle ground
Fighting for justice when all we
with cybernetics
Key notes of my flows will get froze or cryogenics
East Coast domination for the D-you-be masses
Gathering at black masses to gain
guys
Talking about how young black guys are targeted
Targeted by who? America
You see one in every hundred Americans are locked up
One in every nine
guys
Talking about how young black guys are targeted
Targeted by who? America
You see one in every hundred Americans are locked up
One in every nine
guys
Talking about how young black guys are targeted
Targeted by who? America
You see one in every hundred Americans are locked up
One in every nine
he's guilty by his flesh
Either we targets
Or victim of the target markets
For the black markets
Easy to see who are the targets
Once they think you woke
One, one two
Check me out right here, yo
Yo, the sun don't shine forever (you can turn the track up a little bit for me)
But as long as it's
One, one two
Check me out right here, yo
Yo, the sun don't shine forever (you can turn the track up a little bit for me)
But as long as it's
the rich
Five, only strong will survive
Four, 'cause we live by the sword
Three, plus sixty degrees
Two, for the black and the blue
One, for the sun,
Don't break the code what i live by
In the streets wit it its either do or die
Don't break the code what i live by
In the streets wit it its either
hit by flying lead
You've not been hit by flying lead
You'd better close your eyes
You'd better bow your head
Wait for the ricochet
Ooh, ooh,
religions the same as the pigeons
From Francis of Assisi
To the fans of AC/DC
We all shall live again
For the nightingales were seized with a panic
black hair
But this girl was ugly
I mean her body was through
But after four drinks or more
She looked like Paula Abdul
You know what baby? You
black hair
But this girl was ugly
I mean her body was through
But after four drinks or more
She looked like Paula Abdul
You know what baby? You
wanna go black America, yeah
Black America
The Black diaspora
Supreme math into the after
Life, I live it for the master
Truck drivers passed us
Like
National Anthem
Hit the gas
All real Patriots, stand up
Hit the gas
It’s time to do our fuckin’ job
Hit the gas
Hit the gas
Hit the gas
For those of you
When my Black Soul Sing, Black Soul Sing
In this life that we live you gone go through things
Might hear struggle, hear a little pain
Or feel
Mother nature is a coward
(Mother nature is a whore)
No more presence, no more power
I pray for death by the hour
Cut another smile into me
The battles no longer physical, it's from within
You live to die and you die to live again
But you can't win for losing, what sides are you choosin?
found you in pain
Broken man
Waiting to be fixed by me
Waiting for my healing
Are you my dream man?
Your hair, long to make me touch it
Those eyes,
you should have The backs of blacks homie
Instead of buying face man
Karate chop all that coonery and go
Flippin wax on wax off for me
How you gonna
the corner, broken down Pinto
You can tell who got the mail who got the biggest chops
My million dollar spot... beyatch!
I can take a chance, I could live
grandfather was lying wounded in the leg. He’d been wounded by one of our own lads who’d mistaken him for a German when Grandfather had come hobbling out
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