| I worry about the world that we live in
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| I’m worried by all the confusion
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| I wonder about the lies I’m believing
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| I wonder where this sadness is leading
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| You can’t call it a comeback, I never stopped, could’ve went pop
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| I got signed, never got dropped, shit would’ve flopped
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| They want a frat boy and that boy is not so hot
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| If this is how it’s gonna be I say, «fuck hip hop»
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| Artist feed record labels so they basically pimping
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| Like slaves build pyramids for ancient Egyptians
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| Work harder, work faster or you getting a whipping
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| They black list the Ap' but Ap keeps spitting
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| I’m an energizer battery, Apathy keeps ticking
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| And kicking and scratching and smashing this rapping I’m living
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| Like it’s the end world in a matter of seconds
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| It’s December 31st, 2011
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| Get the reverend, get the preacher, get a soldier, get a teacher
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| Turn my rap up in your speakers and then follow the leader
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| I’m cool as my flows in that Winter time song
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| Looking at this industry and wonder if I belong
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| «I just can’t take it, I ask myself, «How will I make it?» |