| Dark room with the cloak draped over the mic
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| Colloquium light, the smoke from the opium pipe
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| Silk road is a code so the only advice
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| To bring truth to the light, play this only at night
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| If it’s over your life, it’s not only a fight
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| My homie called it a plight and my homie was right
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| How to speak truth to power is refuse to cower and teach youth
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| The hour of reckonin' is upon us, there’s enemies among us
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| Essentially in more than recent memory, they hung us
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| Public assembly to watch death become us
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| Better believe it but if not, check the numbers
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| Gramps told my father they sold his papa for gold and copper
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| Even though he was the strongest cropper
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| Now am I wrong if I teach my son to properly hold a choppa
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| And how to bring down a helicopter?
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| What’s the concept? |
| The industrial prison complex
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| For niggas in the projects with they eyes shut
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| That still walk around blind to the conquest
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| That haven’t really realized what’s the time yet
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| No due process, the price is no object
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| When sentences match the crime, they do not yet
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| It’s been a war on the heavily melanated
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| For your own security, you better be educated, listen
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| And if you can’t see what’s happenin', you just can’t see |