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to the army of Brooklyn, those bastards Full of soldiers, my homies lay in caskets They couldn't survive the heat Just like the mavericks And I dont buy wolf
was It's a goddamn war of attrition It's a death by a thousand cuts And if these motherfuckers made it to heaven They burned the bridge when they got
by Upton Sinclair, you'll see what I'm saying You don't have to be black to be poor and oppressed Just like there are rich black people profiting off
easily get swept away by lightning storms And hours watching TV shows Never a lonely moment with four siblings, no Always someone on the go In our yellow
Those days are gone I'm not a kid I'm broken down On 86 I quit that drank still bout my shit Those days are gone I'm not a kid I'm broken down On 86
folks off more than weekend came from the deep End tired of playing defense Black lightning, look up in the sky when it's all said and done We going
Intro: Let's work for the family Let's keep the family strong By keepin the tie of love strong in the family All those of you who are rich, use your
limousine, one of those new inventions It took a few years 'fore the day had come But I was ruler of the WORLD ranked number one So I headed towards
gone on long enough we stand up against the plight We hate on the white man We hate on the black man What happened to the world man What happened
and fiery body with eyes To go with it cass was fluid moving fire She was like a spirit stuck into a form that Would not hold her Her hair was black and long
you all haters Open your dome before that long scope Put your face in the stars like Carl Sagan Walking around cross faded giving you Those raw hay
roar and the lightning cracks the sky The four horsemen called, begin to ride The bell tolls for those who've lived in strife For the reaper comes
on the hippies and faggots And the dykes and the weird little children they grow. Help the black man. Help the poor man. Help the milk man. Help the door man.
Climb out the rubble Mad max in the jungle Fierce as a road warrior They feel the nausea Then they feel the euphoria Inglorious Bastards Is serious
It’s a prison for the poor. So it’s a prison for this man. So what I gotta do? (grind it) When I’m partying (grind it) Or M. I. A. (grind it) Living by
featuring The Fugees WJ: Yo this mic is on? The wickedest combination in the world! WI: No doubt Poor Righteous Teachers
nigga think Now that's Liberation and baby I want it (Let me hear it, let me hear it, let me hear those, let me hear those) Many times I sit back
Yahway music Those who are rich will become poor And those who are poor will become rich Check it out Is it, money or women to funny beginnings
know that somewhere inside those layers A rattlesnake's right there to bite your ass And I can be so quiet and strike so fast Like lightning bolts
This is not poetry They are my words handcuffed and carried away In black Marias by men who play gods with guns And wearing the official uniforms
be slaughtered one by one The sky fades to black with lightning red as blood His fire turning flesh to dust With domination in our grasp, we're
a lightning bolt Blood get spilt, nigga grasp on the hilt How you feel, I just killed, what you asking foe Dead by ya feet, bleeding through the concrete As it
the sleight of ya tongue, Get you hit by a gun like a lightning bolt, Blood get spilt, nigga grasp on the hilt, How you feel, I just killed, what you asking
I. Helen, at 9 am, at noon, at 5:15 Her ambition is to be more shiny and metallic, black and purple as a thief at midday trying to make it in
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