| Yes
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| We’re here to talk about those who
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| Are considered to be an elected official
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| Who said it was official that when they was elected
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| That everything that they dealt with had me in mind
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| As a human being, as a man
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| But not as a slave or three fifths human
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| I have the right to bear arms
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| What makes you think I respect you?
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| Hello Mr. President, residents of the White House, excuse me
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| I’d like to know, have you ever enjoyed an old-time gangster movie?
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| With the white man ringin shots on blocks
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| With their clean shave and pin strip-suits
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| Bootleggin-whiskey-rapin-black-women-and-havin-a-fat-stack-of-loot
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| Undercover David Duke, isn’t it true
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| The gangster movement started long before my time
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| Long before the hair rag, gangster sag
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| Finger signs and love for nines?
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| Damn, in your minds and in your hearts
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| Is the hate really that deep, what’s truly goin on?
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| Knockin me for the words I write
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| For writin movie scripts by whites like Mr. Al Capone
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| Yeah
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| America
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| A land that made Christopher Columbus
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| A historian for bringing madmen, white slaves, and rapists
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| Kennedy, his dad was a bootlegger for Al Capone
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| Became President
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| Isn’t it evident
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| That those who sit in the residence
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| Are not president?
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| Now why you wanna try to knock me
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| Cause I’m black, got a gat
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| Twist my hat and all, listen to Mr. Scarface
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| Think about the way the government wants to hold us back
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| As a matter of fact
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| I believe the whole system is a huge crime scene
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| And everyday they’re doin the dirty work
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| And layin it on us niggas, if you know what I mean
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| So don’t corrupt your own minds foolin yourself
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| Tryin to lay it on the black man
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| I’m a young gee tryin to leave poverty
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| With a gat in my black hand
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| So white heathen, taken straight out of
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| The crate of a mouth of a babe
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| Yeah, a honkey can’t stop what a honkey started
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| And the ghetto’s what you honkeys made
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| That’s right, sittin up there in the White House
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| With your homosexual mentalities and female persuasions
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| Yeah, I’m talkin to all the J. Edgar Hoovers
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| That are still left in there
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| All the big brothers that are watching
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| I hope you’re listenin
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| Cause the bad shit you put on criminals has made the citizens take control
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| Now Sergeant hit ya, get with ya
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| Let’s get back to the issue, continue dissin
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| My way of livin, so a little nigga like me
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| Gots to go and dish ya this mission
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| Hopin that the message that I’m sendin
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| Gets through to you and your people
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| Devil, look at your own dirty past
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| Before you come to me with your blue-eyed evil
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| If I kill 30 innocent, would you write
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| A movie about me and spare
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| My life, or would you lock me up with triple life
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| And strap me down in the electric chair?
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| See, it’s not about the sign I throw up
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| Or where I roam, or what a nigga wear
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| See cracker, it’s all about respect for your hood
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| Your clique, and all of those whose pain with you share
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| That’s right, pain
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| The pain that I feel
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| Is the pain from shame
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| The shame that you’ve caused me
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| For over 400 years of protection
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| The pain that I have within me
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| The rage that is flaming
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| Makes me wanna say the things that I say
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| Do the things that I do
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| And let you know
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| That when you look at me
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| Or look down at me
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| Or look across from your side of the world to my side
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| That what you have failed to realize
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| Is that you’ve put me in projects
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| I realize it was an experiment
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| So when you put me in jail
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| I realize I just made it through the millions
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| I’m just another rat that made my cheese
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| And you couldn’t stand it
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| But what can all the big cats do
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| When all the rats wanna get fat
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| But try to cut down on the cheese
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| What you don’t realize is that you’re jerkin yourself
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| Killin your own existence
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| You’re all walking dead men, and don’t know it
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| With book sense and street sense
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| If you had street intelligence
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| You would really know
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| That you’re one footstep between life and death
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| That the mouth is a open grave
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| And you’ve offered me the right to elect you to a bullet
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| Which is a straight shot to the top, right?
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| And what goes up must come down
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| That’s why it’s goin down right now
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| You can smell the smoke
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| See the flames
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| And see the bodies that are left on the ground
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| Because the flag
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| Red, white and blue
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| And the stars from all the years you’ve whupped me and mines
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| I still see |