| Yo, I was a wild adolescent, blessed with the foul essence
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| Messin' around with the wrong crowd, I learned my lesson
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| Stressin' all the things that I have not
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| I pray to God I get my Uncle out the crack spot
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| I hear mad shots, homicide come and play Matlock
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| But never crack the case cause the defendant’s a bad cop
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| You feel me fam? |
| The devil’s got a plan
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| That’s why Farrakhan formed the Million Man up in Washington
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| The Hidden Hand even planned this man
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| Have me goin' hand to hand, killin' my own clan
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| But now I understand and see the big picture
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| Fuck cryin' about the struggle, I teach you how to get richer
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| Shit is a hassle in this rotten apple, kids robbin' coppin' capsules
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| Rockin' tattoos, boppin' with ankles locked in shackles
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| Got the cops joggin' at you, spittin' rounds of clips, they down wit it
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| New clowns’ll make you feel as if the Bill of Rights is counterfeit
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| Now it’s been written that all men are equal, but then it’s legal
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| When they beat us and treat us as if we’re different people
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| We go for delf, fuck the cop’s health
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| I’d rather drop shelf and let off shots until my Glock melts
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| Cause God dealt us a helpless hand, they made us sell this land
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| So the palest man could build a selfish plan
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| You know we can’t trust the government, cause Uncle Sam is smugglin'
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| Drugs for us to hustle all the stuff for him
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| Even McGruff is in it, gettin' a percentage
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| Takin' advantage, punishin' just blacks and hispanics
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| My heart is cold as ice, so I know I’m sheist, Big Pun was the kid
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| That no one liked, my whole life, is one big roll of the dice
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| Payin' a price twice as expensive as white kids
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| Destined for Rikers not knowin' my existence was priceless
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| It’s like this, my soul was lifeless, I earned stripes
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| Fightin the nicest in the crisis I slice 'em in half and make 'em dash
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| Like hyphens, invitin' any rapper to Clash With the Titan
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| The writing’s like fighting cause rappers be biting like Tyson
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| I’m hypin' the crowd, keepin' 'em Loud like my label
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| I’m proud I’m able to lift from the bowels of the ghetto
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| I found me a little sanity inside a career and a family
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| No more wars and renderin tears to insanity
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| So keep the salary and tear the mic, cause I love it
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| There’s my life, you judge it, fuck it Seis, I don’t want it
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| I’m a Dominican, stranded in New York like Gilligan
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| Don’t wanna get locked up in the pen' again
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| But here they come, the faggots and cuffs, searchin' for guns
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| Turnin' they ride on the side of the curb to see who runs
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| They authorize the beast to walk the streets holdin' heat
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| Four deep, we puff production, my cheek, you know my steez
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| Fuck the police, usin' «probable cause» to break laws
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| Behind the badge you try to cover up your racial war
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| I got somethin' for you boys in blue
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| The system poisoned you, blew your cover, now what you supposed to do?
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| I never let the faggot pull the trig first
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| It won’t be no American flag over my hearse
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| What’s worse, you know they disperse for bucks
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| So take caution in the streets cause our protection sucks
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| This dude, he had the darkest pads
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| Who dressed up in the heart of brash
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| Forever talkin' trash
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| How he stacked niggas to almanac
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| Gunshots to corner four police informants
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| Stood like he modeled the latest fashions, sidewalk sideshow performance
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| He raised to pull a graceful razor, blew his face
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| Four is commissary plus a pack of da-dun-da-duns laced with toothpaste
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| Life ain’t to be gambled son, you could get trampled
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| By people that act more like animals than mammals high off enamel
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| That’s what his poppa said whose locked for droppin' Ahmed
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| In the candy store robbery probably to get his veins fed
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| He ain’t listen, he became a braindead cocaine head
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| Older Mexicans knew, they killed him eatin' bacalaitos
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| But hey little kids, don’t follow these dopes
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| What? |
| Uh-huh, yea I can dig that
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| They call me Prospect, I just came back from New Paltz
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| Had this track on pause, now I’m back on course
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| It’s lost on the Ave, tryin' to take my life from the past
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| Get this legal cash, look what I done grabbed without dad
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| Kinda sad how he got dragged down to negativity
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| Only if he had one love, trust for liberty
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| This world would be a better place, get what it takes
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| In a race to racism replace the snake in 'em
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| Bad ones, want to spend lives and discriminate
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| I’m tryin' to keep this positive vibe, and from that
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| I generate to the top, like Puffy won’t stop
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| I’m mature now, with one knot, from tryin' to get locked
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| And to the shorties on the block, tryin' to twist 40 tops
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| Get your act together, do some carpentry with a Black n Decker
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| And stop speedin' like a Kawasaki
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| From my life to your life I’m touchin' everybody Twinz watch me
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| Everything we speak is the truth
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| From Prospect to Munroe, here in a hot second
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| The whole world run know, everything we speak is the truth
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| Terror Squad |