| You in tune to the most dangerous on file
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| Niggas finna mash on — bitch get wild
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| With these field nigga serenades, we break wide
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| In the land of the weak home of the slave we rise
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| To protect — they servin’us with sticks and shots
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| But who protect us from these murderous cops
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| Whose heroes, you could keep your flags I’m out, I’ll
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| Wrap a chain around the precinct and burn shit down
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| Fuck the police, I’m thinkin’how to feed my seed
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| Bumpin DPs bailin’down the block on D’s
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| It’s the same shit every day
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| Seem the more a nigga build they wanna take away
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| Like a slave when you can’t eat you can’t sleep
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| Can’t seem to find peace, only thing the street see is police and poverty
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| Bitch don’t start with me — I can’t fade
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| The bullshit noise that the radio play
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| Where the world wanna be like and talk like and act like and rap like
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| The black life is all gats and crack pipes
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| I spit right — nigga whut? |
| My shits tight
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| Is you a snitch, nigga or bitch? |
| Ya choose sides
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| When we roam, we beat back attack of the clones
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| What kinda shit cha’ll niggas is on? |
| We hit home
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| And spill so the people could feel this real talk
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| From the bay and everything in between to New York — Holla
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| What we gotta do is tear shit up (8x)
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| This is the way we bomb when we come around
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| Still keep it on the map for the underground
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| Fuck the system, I’ma holla with a black fist
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| It’s hard truth, where my soldiers? |
| We still blitz
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| And who’s who with these gangstas, see a vet
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| Young niggas or the government? |
| Take a guess
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| See we blessed with the speech that could reach oppressed communities
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| World wide so we don’t waste time we stress freedom
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| And serve 'em wit the style (what)
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| Motherfuck smilin'(what)
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| Who wanna ride (what)
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| Rally up the crowd (what)
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| Full hollow tips (what)
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| Cyanide squibs (what)
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| Power to the people
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| With rocks, banana clips see us Strugglefor the streets motherfuck the bling
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| Nowadays radio make it harder to bring
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| Real shit to the people — it’s deeper than me They intice with the conflict ice and blow trees
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| Corporatized by the vile — they smile and fill
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| Black bodies in the pen it’s the men they kill
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| 3 strikes, whose life? |
| Not my life yours
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| Put the men into prison turn women to whores
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| Ignore cries of the people — but time is up Stay tuned for the sequel — we buildin’to bust
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| I’m goin’AWOL — Fuck all laws I wanna attack
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| This bullshit, hold 'em accountable for they acts — feel me What we gotta do is tear shit up (8x)
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| Militant and political Guevera M-1
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| I wipe the smile off you many mouths, meld like a gun
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| And I remember '99 goin’on tour with Big Pun
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| Gettin’this fast rap cash from them six-week runs
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| See I done learned from them generals with wild entourages
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| Fuckin’like rabbits but don’t wanna be fathers
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| Fuckin’up they hotel room, stay on some star shit
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| Know your role, play you position, rule 4
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| You know you can’t fade it, it’s gang truce-related
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| We bang for change, hittin', no game, you can’t hate it I wanna slap Bush and his mammy
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| For how he did the Haitians in Miami that’s my fam
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| Coupe tet Boule kay, so please die cracka die
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| That’s for 22 generations of genocide
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| You see that’s why we get high, just to get by See we sit and wait until it’s dark outside and then we ride
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| On our enemies, you can depend on me If you a pig then you can’t be no friend of me See it’s been 33 years since Fred been gone
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| He was murdered on the same day Jay-Z was born, for real
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| 12−4-69, same year, when they take one from us Then another appears
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| We gon’take this time to commemmorate
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| NRD — National Revolutionary Day, say it —
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| What we gotta do is tear shit up (8x) |