| Hold up, man. |
| Gotta be free
|
| Hold up, man. |
| Gotta be me
|
| Hold up, man. |
| Gotta stand up
|
| Brush off ‘cause we gon' break through these
|
| Fuck that. |
| Hold back. |
| Now get low
|
| Don’t shit in my su-su-studio
|
| We gon' rock to the top, keep it hot to the block
|
| ‘Til the people don’t stop. |
| Ha. |
| Get. |
| Go
|
| How you feel about the up ‘til you get down?
|
| Why you sound like a punk bitch? |
| Get grown
|
| Gimme some links with them grits real quick, bitch
|
| Ha ha. |
| New day—yes sir, get gone
|
| Runaway to the runway, catch sun
|
| Take off to exhaust while I twist one
|
| Turn on to the song while I move through
|
| Damn, can I move you? |
| Yes don’t question
|
| New socks, new shirt, dirty dishes
|
| New car, no gas—so vicious
|
| Oh my god, oh my god, don’t you listen
|
| No pot to piss in—Muslim, Christian
|
| Same shit, new day—ain't nothing changed
|
| New shit, same day—can you feel the pain?
|
| Oh my god, oh my god, can you make a change
|
| If I see this shit again, think I’mma go insane
|
| When will these humans learn?
|
| Empires crash and burn
|
| A house of cards that’s built on sand will never ever work
|
| Hush that. |
| What’s that? |
| So the truth hurts
|
| Groundwork being laid for the world church
|
| In the guise of love, we gon' give it up
|
| Submit or fall, hear the bomb burst
|
| (Blast, blast) Now we all caught in police state
|
| Just walk or run right into that old redneck grave
|
| The girls, the boys got fire in the hole
|
| School’s out. |
| Go play
|
| They shooting, so move (And move. And move)
|
| S’how we all caught in police state (walk or run)
|
| You want to escape or pray? |
| (escape, escape)
|
| Put God in the classroom—we're OK
|
| Intelligent design
|
| It’s the year of the boom box—turn off radio
|
| Fight for apocalypse, shut down studio
|
| Down studio, down studio, down studio
|
| This is that 808 rap
|
| We spit light, let sky crack
|
| We see it. |
| Loophole where?
|
| Gotta get that. |
| Come again—what?
|
| Say it’s that 808 rap
|
| We spit light, let sky crack
|
| We see it. |
| Loophole where?
|
| Gotta get that. |
| Come again—what?
|
| Gotta get that. |
| Come again—what?
|
| Too much too soon, and the ball drops
|
| Not much, have not, and you call cops
|
| Black bars, no sleep with the padlocks
|
| «Let's get free.» |
| — small voice in the boondocks
|
| Get right, get wrong—who the fuck knows?
|
| Choose a side, pick a lie, and you make foes
|
| Don’t like what you hear, then you close doors
|
| I’mma na say how I feel ‘til you all know
|
| (Blast, blast) Now we all caught in police state
|
| Just walk or run right into that old redneck grave
|
| The girls, the boys got fire in the hole
|
| School’s out. |
| Go play
|
| They shooting, so move |