| Why is it you fail, to see a man
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| in the same hour, that his kin come grinnin?
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| In another code, fell asleep, party mode, tryin to come up from the ashes that defy your lift, listen up Ladies seem sweet, the ocean meets the mountain peaks
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| Stone-walker, side-walker, watch those loose lips, Wall Street
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| Numbers set by stock movers, buy my tip so I can touch
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| Not for no print size, plate saint, white wasted H20
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| Four coats’ll make it glaze
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| Beams rooted like dogwood, between the Pine, wind
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| Twenty-fo'stores with malt for sale, still fetchin water
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| out the well, help em size, find the grind, find the times
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| where the times weighed as hard as? |
| find me shoes, baby daddy
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| Rico Daddy, he didn’t break the TV
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| So why should I weep, man gon’bye, see you when my light blow
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| Got more good than dirt to throw, and I won’t pull
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| between the halo, and a fork-pitch
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| Suffocated by my rhymes…
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| Chorus: Debra Killings
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| Worship High, it’s just another name
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| Take your time and concentrate on it Take a stand and make your hand a fist
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| We got a reason to resist
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| The mortal orbit your nadir, don’t cross the fade
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| chillin in Decatur, where it’s greater, secure streets
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| In the hood late at nights, dippin fine
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| Hard not to be slippin, if they come, I won’t run
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| When it’s time, I ain’t trippin, I got my date
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| and you got yours too, I see, the record sales soar
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| after the death, of this creator, genocidal, tendencies
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| when they mention he, who listens, to Unseen Hand
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| Cappin the faces of the young black man, when they sing
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| Knowin that we Godly, got to keep it right
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| with my people cause I’m equal no matter, how much I make
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| I can’t escape fate, the date as I await
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| As I await, I can’t fake
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| Can’t fake, I can’t fake, I’m true with it A duffel for the cash, platinum within myself from another earth
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| Spill, nina, tea leaf, your very, existance
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| is considered a privelege, buck up, and they can’t, be revoked
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| Pay your taxes, uhh, snake eyes
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| Strapped with flaws, still iterant to a lot of laws
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| Man-made, but that’s a dot, everybody
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| from the East coast don’t wear it back home, whatchu think?
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| Gettin they thoughts mixed negative, after reoccurances
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| I say a prayer, plus if I, entertained them
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| It’s easy to commit, hard to resist
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| And once we cross that line segment, not even our producers
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| can bring us back, eyeballs peeled
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| Eardrums opened, egos stripped stroked, another low blow
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| delivered to the hip-hop culture, uhh
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| Industry consists of thieveries, prostititues
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| and Folgers if somethin bigger than us, past the blue
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| Told us that it wasn’t a heaven for G’s
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| Then we do this, continue your devilish deeds
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| I mean activities, that just show, that it’s a Hell
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| for Jacks, independent, but you distributed by your masters
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| Labels still a slave, but you just get to eat at the white man’s table, lookin like Gable Gunther
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| on the Guinness Book of World Records, God didn’t like ugly
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| and he wasn’t too fond of cute either
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| A climate of caution, a climate of caution in effect
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| Where I am, you can feel God is present, in the midst of darkness
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| if you spark up bet somebody gonna see it It is necessary for me to speak these words now
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| Another day here hasn’t been promised to me, don’t you agree
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| that you never fail when you try, I’m willing to die but first
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| I am willing to live, and I overstand that this will be a lifelong sacrifice, in order to reveal
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| you gon’have to destroy, and if you ain’t thinkin right
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| you damn sure can’t act right, somebody raise your fist
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| and let me know I’m not alone, revolution, doesn’t mean fightin
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| in these streets, and it ain’t gonna be no revolution
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| without the women, and, it ain’t gonna be no future
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| without the children, and, it ain’t gonna be no children
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| without the men, and, you can’t have no love without the trust
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| And no, trust can come without communication
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| And you can’t communicate if you ain’t got shit to say
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| You can’t teach about what you, been deceived about too
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| Any book you read is still limited education
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| You gon’have to talk to God personally and time is short
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| And, he’s on his way, and I will receive
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| a grateful word for what I’ve done
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| And this is all that really matters to me In time you will see what I told you is true
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| And I ain’t have to rhyme to say that to you
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| I ain’t got to rhyme to say it to you, it’s true |