Lyrics:
Jon, won't you step up and show 'em just a little bit of what the fuck you do
Come on, let's get 'em
This year's election was trash, so I need
the method
And of course I gotta spread
It on that presidential kush
I'm in here coughin' at election
Hol' up presidential rollie, Clinton, Obama
Reagan it's
the family, tell 'em, "Get your money"
Yeezy, Yeezy, Yeezy, they line up for days
Nike out here bad, they can't give shit away
I stuck to my roots, I'm like
Ross]
I got a letter from the government, the other day
I opened and read it, it said "We want hustlers"
Had a Lexus at 18, picture that
Got a Chevy
contesting old elections
When picket fences, power and profits all had white complexions
Ah “the good old days!”
On a bad day we go low and they go even
to the general
Disrespectin' those doin' real time with real criminals
And I ain't never did a day in my life
But it should be illegal to walk a day in my
the forest
How We Spend Our Vote-Is how we use our Voice
How we spend our days -Is How we make a choice
You could strike a chord that lasts forever
This
your brother we day call am brother sunday
Grew up in corruption na one mumu win election
Bring destruction to my home town that's why I go on vacation
run
Day to day, America eats it's young
And defeats our women
There is a gap so wide we all can swim in
Drown in (uh get down) an get it
Got it
I was born on a thousand acres of Oklahoma land
Nothing grew on the thousand acres for it was gravel and sand
One day, father started digging in
put him through the trials one day
And that's just what happened he took pity on two men
Heading down to Louisiana, he stopped and let them in
out
I ain't got no shoes, no shoes, no shoes don't fit
But I ain't goin' to that welfare store
You know why? It won't be long 'fore election time
Your righteousness
I fight to just
Keep You in my sight for just
Five seconds of my life since
The day I met Christ
Never knew a love quite like this
I'm
look like it do nothing but lift weights
And you just fixed the big plate
Kids looking grown by fifth grade
Other day I saw a baby in a stroller
question or debate"
Most of what we know as art is the projection of a faith
A product of a Pontiff for the election of a saint
A gift from the red for
I was born on a thousand acres of Oklahoma land
Nothing grew on the thousand acres for it was gravel and sand
One day father started digging in
the fear and the antidotes play
Where seldom is heard
An encouraging word
And our leaders do nothing all day
What if they gave an election
And nobody
False promises they'll offer up at the Election Booth,
Just empty words that fall upon the ears of the common working man.
There will come a day ----
but you affect where you die
Until that day, health and welfare, cheers
And after my wake, the hood'll talk, man listen here
He kept a mink
Draft Dodger
Warmonger
Election Stealer
Dirty Dealer
Drunk Driver
Goddamned Liar
Budget Breaker
Deficit Maker
C Student
Imprudent
Mispronouncer
low lows
They should call me Santa cuz it's ho after ho ho
Born in a house of perfection
Family expects me to win the election
Haven't been keeping my
His last words before the end were, strangely enough
"The eye, the lucky eye, how wonderful to have it"
At the cemetary, several days later
Mrs.
Yeah
Woo, too turned up
My Rolex might win an election
We count the hundreds right
Off of the passion, beautiful blessings
Trips out to Paris,
type symptoms
Sad day, had his all whole sickened
Trying to state the facts
We don't care if he election black, we got a strap, uh
Gangsta shit,
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