| Allah is god, we came here to travel
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| And speak the truth to those who do not know themselves.
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| We do the knowledge to everythin in our existence
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| And expense forth the truth. |
| if you cannnot stand on your
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| Own two feet, what must be done? |
| nothin, you shall die
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| In your own inequity. |
| I want yall to feel me.
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| Let allah take this path to teach the truth to those
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| Who do not know themselves.
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| Heat like a pressure cooker
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| Hard-boiled, like an egg, mad that they over-looked ya Damn, shit never go right for a nigga like me All my plots and schemes pretty much shattered dreams
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| Forced to re-evaluate my situation, realization
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| Im 5% of the original nation who know the truth
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| The youth nowadays are color-coded, minds eroded
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| Like rust on bumpers of old chevys from 1962
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| I used to cop em, but I had to drop em Get aboard shaky ground, still I roam the compound
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| Like the saint, remember who I am
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| I might just rob the bank in your town
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| Went from sleepin in crates on quincy street
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| Never havin a refridgerator full of food to eat
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| Fallin out the windows of east new york
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| Was knowledge, understandin when I stoppin eatin pork
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| Yo, pictures record my wonder years
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| The narrator, I write like diaries and journals
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| Layin with the bitch too much, swimmin in pools of pussy
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| Mentally takes you out your zone, Im livin un-satisfied
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| My eyes want to see gold bars in my palm
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| More suedes clarks, the fonz is poetry, islam is science
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| Project shrimp scatters the grounds, whips and tyrants
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| Everydays the same palace shit like the total thumper
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| Second time on this planet, things tooken for granted
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| Advantage, presto, dont settle for less, strictly quality garments
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| Yo, exercise your right to bear arms, peace to salute the prostitutes
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| Constitution, precious moments in her life
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| From stark 8, eternal is life, extremely fast
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| Yo, this lifes full of savagery and the devils still after me I drink bacardi to set the mind free, puff trees in the black teepee
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| Im still hurtin from the shit the devils still servin
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| It feels like a sayonce, but Im trapped in chaos
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| Yo, me, oh, my its chaos, livin in my hive
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| Back up, back up, for this time you must die
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| Ive watched niggaz get shot rocked, they cold ass locked up In cells blocks, days of our lives, cheatin wives
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| Takin half a niggas pie, enemies in disguise
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| Take ya clientel, ya girl and leave ya with the lies
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| Yo, my fams royal, hot like rotten camels in the desert
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| Drinkin rum, by these naked bitches rubbin me with baby oil
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| We all loyal with big gats, connect like seeds and soil bean with soil
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| Where all my nigga now wigs at? |
| jim hat, where shorty at with no kids at?
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| Like armored trucks with 25 bricks, I wanna stick that
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| Bein broke gave me the ice grill, if I cant smoke, I might ill
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| Fight a dyke for tryin to steal
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| >from all my niggaz who cant grab, aint no fun robbin and cant brag
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| Cop grams and hand bags
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| Thats like life with no map, a dolja soldier on the wrong path
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| Tryin to road block the road to riches
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| If you got somethin, maintain what you go left
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| Cuz the only thing to fear in this world is life or death
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| Yo, this dreamll leave you fiendin for weight and a triple beam
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| Lifes a scheme, so, you add it all up and got your plans to square off
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| Who was your man and bet this, Im reckless on your high styles check list
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| I dead this through bloody wars, government laws, iritatin like sours
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| But soon to heal the ghetto neigborhoods where hittin steal
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| Aint no peace, young ones blasted by the beast
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| Im from the east where each and every teach
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| Youll feel it in your physical, mental credentials, fuck a nigga who sell,
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| Right?
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| It was simple, my crew leave a stain where they start
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| A half moon when we depart, a full moon when the l sparks
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| You got to love it, some say the good and ugly live on high societys
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| Made us, fuck what you say, they played us 9 servants, but feelin better when Im goin for life
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| In my mans ride, thats yo man, right?
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| You was my a-alike, cuz stars will like to shine so bright
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| Now you smoke crack pipes, sell ya whips for low price
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| Yo, whats wrong with you? |
| m-o was known for jig-able
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| You had a crew, especially known to kill for you
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| Now you fucked up and no one even has a small clue
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| How you fell off and caught to these low down crack blues
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| Thats why I sing this song, Ill keep holdin on It makes me stay strong and hold this fort down with firearms
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| His lifes pathetic for my man nine, dont even sweat it Ima help ya ass out, no need for things, but dont forget it Cuz maybe on this cross road, I could take this same load
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| And who can help my ass out on a path to receive higher gold?
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| …nigga!!! |