| Y’all know the prophecy, it’s biblical; |
| «from hill to hill»
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| In between Beacon and Capitol I travel at will
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| Atop the mount of Crown, send down the edict for the Sea to achieve peace
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| The townspeople read it and weep
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| We meet in the streets, a foray of glory and hype
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| Recitin' stories and arias of warrior types
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| An army of light — recreate the Normandy site
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| Deploy, you appreciate the enormity, right?
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| This battle hymn of the republic will knock for all my soldiers
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| The block, that’s where we focus and plot to overthrow this
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| Echelon, send a message to stop takin' our vote
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| This has got to be a joke, ‘cause it’s not what we were told
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| Is in the promissory note of the draft the forefathers had crafted
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| Your fathers aint mine, boy — I’m a bastard
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| I grasp a four-fifth in my palm, I got the right to bear arms
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| Y’all keep pushin' me back, I’m ‘bout to blast it
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| The creed is captured in the prose, my flow’s ominous
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| And obviously the reason we rose to prominence
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| We’re documenting history here, the end’s near
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| The pen, bomb and grenade; |
| the promenade of sincere
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| My folks rush to grab it and mash at full thrust
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| The first to have status and pull and hold a flush
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| For control they go nuts, yo — we’re rollin' back to Cali
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| Revivin' the rush for the gold dust
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| CHORUS 1:
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| Yo we crush the precious metal to dust for distribution
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| All you gotta do is breathe to receive the restitution
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| Under pressure we become both gems and grown men
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| It’s like a jungle sometimes — wonder why I was thrown in
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| When my instincts seem to do more harm than good
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| It’s difficult to defend against steel armed with wood
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| Maybe I was never meant to be a champion
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| I’m standin' downstream pannin' for ambition to hand in
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| Necessity was the mother of the invention of my character
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| The neighborhood good Samaritan holdin' a Derringer
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| And darin' you to thwart my path or try stoppin'
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| The establishment of armistice, this is the dichotomy
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| I gotta see the reconciliation take place
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| My offering for the intercession is burnt sage and a Smith & Wesson
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| I’m guessin' God really needs neither
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| But I must if I’m entrusted as my brother’s keeper
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| The challenge is discerning fam from adversaries
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| They move in similar fashion — a real man carries a
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| Heavier load; |
| shoulders and back bowed
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| The observation is in the simple conversation you hold
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| Now look me in the eye and tell me I’m not worthy of favor
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| The crop would never pay you if not for all our labor
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| We’re the spine, twisted to sign dots along the waiver
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| It’s hot where you gon' stay, I pray God will be your savior
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| When the fires of propitiation reach the plantation
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| Thirty lashes in the dirty ashes layin' the abatement
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| I’m afraid of laughing, ‘cause shortly after I’ll be facin' the wrath
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| I ask for mercy though I’m purposely impassioned
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| And I’m certain the infraction’s a forgivable offense
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| When the true lord of this land would never quibble over rent
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| Wealth proffiteth no man in his last days
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| These flames will show you what you’re made of… dust
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| CHORUS 2:
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| Yo the dust I was born from is this type, this insight is
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| Helping me to get right, and I need assistance at times
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| Be the admission disguised behind a pseudonym
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| I hope to find truth in him before these guys do him in
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| And what’s a legacy worth next to mined metal, yo
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| Measure me first — depression, it’s better we work
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| For change, not for pennies, if anything the commodity traded is us
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| For flakes of gold dust. |