| Somebody wanted guidance, looked inside to find it
|
| You know them blind kids, money on their eyelids
|
| Kissing on the fly gyp-ship from the Egyptian islands
|
| Gems in the hymns said the chant
|
| The moon man grins, hair on my chin grows
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| Hair on my chest burn
|
| Flare in my soul cold
|
| I can’t sleep
|
| Let alone, stay awoke, smoking dope like
|
| It’s like Shaitan find another way to choke
|
| Another day broke, money ain’t my motto, nope
|
| Traded peace for the sorrow that I swallow
|
| Bottle after bottle, like the role models that I hallow
|
| Feeling like a seedless avocado
|
| Crowd screaming
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| «Bravo! |
| Bravo!
|
| Here’s a dollar for your sorrows
|
| Can I borrow your time more tomorrow?»
|
| Watching Fargo, feeling far gone from the chart that I was gonna follow
|
| It’s hard to make songs when a war’s going on outside
|
| No man is safe from
|
| And you can run but you can’t hide forever
|
| Mother won’t let up, telling me I should get up
|
| And in the meantime, on that mean grind for cheddar
|
| Underground Master Shredder, gave my brother my leather
|
| Put on a sweater, I counted my change
|
| I added my blessings
|
| I stepped into the rain
|
| To wash my brain
|
| My friends say that I don’t talk the same
|
| So dark like we don’t give off the same light
|
| Wish I seen it all in plain sight to explain it on this great mic
|
| Amplified, stay wired to the nation-side, cross oceans
|
| Where the faiths collide and talk omens like grace that died
|
| On the brink of trying to make my mind
|
| Save my soul at the same time, make this rhyme
|
| Wonder, will I be saved in time
|
| Make Salah, say grace
|
| Case God change his mind
|
| How insane am I?
|
| Just the same as you
|
| Came here what you came to do
|
| I’m just saying the truth
|
| A little more
|
| More out of life
|
| Sometimes we gotta blank out
|
| And touch the universe on some
|
| Fuck rap back with my back on the wall rap shit
|
| Capping at all, napping on God
|
| Knowing damn well half of your squad
|
| Still ain’t found John
|
| Baptist, Barnes, drowning him
|
| Swimming in a pool full of shark fins surrounding him
|
| Rain dancing when dark days
|
| Have clouded him, cause niggas play God
|
| They just building up, doubted him
|
| Rapping about colors like someone’s proud of him
|
| But don’t praise fathers cause half of you grew without one
|
| Malcolms, Martins, Pacs, Chris Wallaces
|
| Muhammads, Khalil Gibrans, Akhenatens
|
| Gods and goddesses, following false promises
|
| Laws and politics, full-ride scholarships
|
| Still don’t know what time it is
|
| Models and actors, rappers, coke, bottle of Cris'
|
| Rope and bad words
|
| Hope plastered on minds of mañana
|
| Obama, Osama, Mama, Papa
|
| God we gotcha
|
| Dealing with censorship, sponsorship, friendships
|
| Relationships, slave ship minimum wages
|
| Racist shit, we gotta find ways to change this shit
|
| Elevation, higher foundations |