| America! |
| Ha ha ha! |
| We love you
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| How many people are proud to be citizens
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| Of this beautiful country of ours, the stripes and the stars
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| For the rights that men have died for to protect?
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| The women and men who have broke their necks
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| For the freedom of speech the United States government has sworn to uphold… or so we're told
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| (Yo, I want everybody to listen to the words of this song)
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| I never would've dreamed in a million years I'd see
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| So many motherfuckin' people who feel like me
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| Who share the same views and the same exact beliefs
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| It's like a fuckin' army marchin' in back of me
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| So many lives I touched, so much anger aimed
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| In no particular direction, just sprays and sprays
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| And straight through your radio waves, it plays and plays
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| 'Til it stays stuck in your head for days and days
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| Who would've thought standin' in this mirror, bleachin' my hair
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| With some peroxide, reachin' for a t-shirt to wear
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| That I would catapult to the forefront of rap like this?
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| How could I predict my words would have an impact like this?
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| I must've struck a chord with somebody up in the office
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| 'Cause Congress keep tellin' me I ain't causin' nothin' but problems
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| And now they're sayin' I'm in trouble with the government
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| I'm lovin' it, I shoveled shit all my life, and now I'm dumpin' it on
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| White America! |
| I could be one of your kids
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| White America! |
| Little Eric looks just like this
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| White America! |
| Erica loves my shit
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| I go to TRL, look how many hugs I get! |
| (Yah!)
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| White America! |
| I could be one of your kids
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| White America! |
| Little Eric looks just like this
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| White America! |
| Erica loves my shit
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| I go to TRL, look how many hugs I get!
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| Look at these eyes, baby blue, baby just like yourself
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| If they were brown, Shady'd lose, Shady sits on the shelf
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| But Shady's cute, Shady knew Shady's dimples would help
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| Make ladies swoon, baby (Ooh, baby!) — Look at my sales!
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| Let's do the math: if I was black, I would've sold half
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| I ain't have to graduate from Lincoln High School to know that
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| But I could rap, so fuck school, I'm too cool to go back
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| Give me the mic! |
| Show me where the fuckin' studio's at
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| When I was underground, no one gave a fuck I was white
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| No labels wanted to sign me, almost gave up, I was like
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| "Fuck it," until I met Dre, the only one to look past
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| Gave me a chance and I lit a fire up under his ass
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| Helped him get back to the top, every fan black that I got
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| Was prob'ly his in exchange for every white fan that he's got
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| Like damn, we just swapped: sittin' back lookin' at shit, wow
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| I'm like my skin is it startin' to work to my benefit now? |
| It's—
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| White America! |
| I could be one of your kids
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| White America! |
| Little Eric looks just like this
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| White America! |
| Erica loves my shit
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| I go to TRL, look how many hugs I get! |
| (Yah!)
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| White America! |
| I could be one of your kids
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| White America! |
| Little Eric looks just like this
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| White America! |
| Erica loves my shit
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| I go to TRL, look how many hugs I get!
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| See, the problem is I speak to suburban kids
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| Who otherwise would've never knew these words exist
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| Whose moms prob'ly would've never gave two squirts of piss
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| 'Til I created so much motherfuckin' turbulence
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| Straight out the tube, right into your livin' rooms I came
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| And kids flipped when they knew I was produced by Dre
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| That's all it took, and they were instantly hooked right in
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| And they connected with me too, because I looked like them
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| That's why they put my lyrics up under this microscope
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| Searchin' with a fine tooth comb, it's like this rope
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| Waitin' to choke, tightenin' around my throat
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| Watchin' me while I write this, like, "I don't like this note!"
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| All I hear is: lyrics, lyrics, constant controversy
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| Sponsors workin' 'round the clock to try to stop my concerts early
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| Surely hip-hop was never a problem in Harlem, only in Boston
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| After it bothered the fathers of daughters startin' to blossom
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| So now I'm catchin' the flak from these activists when they raggin'
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| Actin' like I'm the first rapper to smack a bitch or say "faggot", shit
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| Just look at me like I'm your closest pal
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| The poster child, the motherfuckin' spokesman now, for—
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| White America! |
| I could be one of your kids
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| White America! |
| Little Eric looks just like this
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| White America! |
| Erica loves my shit
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| I go to TRL, look how many hugs I get! |
| (Yah!)
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| White America! |
| I could be one of your kids
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| White America! |
| Little Eric looks just like this
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| White America! |
| Erica loves my shit
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| I go to TRL, look how many hugs I get!
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| So to the parents of America, I am the Derringer
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| Aimed at little Erica to attack her character
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| The ringleader of this circus of worthless pawns
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| Sent to lead the march right up to the steps of Congress
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| And piss on the lawns of the White House
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| To burn the *galf* and replace it with a Parental Advisory sticker
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| To spit liquor in the faces of this democracy of hypocrisy
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| Fuck you, Ms. Cheney! |
| Fuck you, Tipper Gore!
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| Fuck you with the freest of speech this Divided States of Embarrassment will allow me to have! |
| Fuck you!
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| Ha ha ha, I'm just playin', America
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| You know I love you |