| I hear voices whisper tell me, «Banner kill yo’self»
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| Man I call on the Lord, pain doesn’t easy from wealth
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| These cars, these clothes, these hoes
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| Never meant nothin, havin nightmares screamin and busting
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| At my enemy, I put a bullet in that nigga and I see it’s me
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| Is it my soul?, killing self hate
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| Or does that nigga in me have to die before I reach them pearly gates
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| Either way I got somthin to say
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| Jam Master Jay used to yell walk this way
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| But it’s hard to walk like a man the industry’s.
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| And these the same motherfuckers thats controlin my cash'
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| And the same ones, the government, controllin yo ass
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| Why George bush ain’t in jail for stealin them votes?
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| Why the CIA ain’t closed man, for pushin that dope?
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| Get it crackin America, the CIA, aka the KKK
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| It’s judgement day!
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| Seein, seein thangs, I can swear that I’m seein thangs
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| Seein, seein thangs, I can swear that I’m seein thangs
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| Seein, seein thangs, I can swear that I’m seein thangs
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| They comin' for ya soul, they already got the chains
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| In a Chevy, I’m wondering if the Feds broke the levy
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| Are they in with the devil to control the weather?
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| Hurricanes and typhoons every other week
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| While po' folks are drowning in the middle of the street
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| We too scared to speak, or too busy on the internet
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| I heard they about to put lo-jacks in our kids necks
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| Marshall law, tell Bush naw we ain’t ready to flip
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| The hood is like a modern slave ship
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| We packed like sardines and shackled to the streets
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| And crack is cotton that grows up from the concrete
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| Shit, but I guess I’m seein thangs
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| We’d rather not learn, we’d rather fuckin gang bang |