| «We hold these truths to be self evident
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| That all men are created equal
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| And endowed by their creator
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| With certain inalienable rights
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| And when these rights are destroyed over long periods of time
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| It is your duutyy to destroy, demolish its venom»
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| (Applause)
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| War, my skills is this spelled backwards
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| I perform for the white kids but do this for the black kids
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| To get this ill takes practice I’m takin' over
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| The industry with ghetto verbal and tactics
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| Hard times build muscle like lactic acid
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| Some entertainers losin' they minds
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| Makin' porns pissin' on kids
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| The streets is ill save the theatrics
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| I still treat a bitch like a bitch
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| While y’all niggas is doin' backflips
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| I can’t trip I guess it’s part of the game
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| Like Ja-Rule bitin' my name
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| Like MJ glowin' up in flames
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| Like chickens suckin' dick for fame
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| As things change I remain the same
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| Tryin' to keep sane
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| While many strugglin' to maintain
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| The stress of ghetto livin' can bust ya brain
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| It seems the road is paved with less joy than pain
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| I wanna regress but I refrain
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| If I don’t I rage war
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| Right here in the streets of New York
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| Some talk the talk, but don’t walk the walk
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| Like Muslems at the corner store sellin' pork
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| My little brother still outlined in chalk
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| They went from forties to the champagne court
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| Videos and true lies makin' all the birds squalk
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| Little girls butt naked so the president’s stalk
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| My man say he was god holdin' the devil’s pitchfork
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| That’s why I’m throwin' rhymes like Geronimo’s tomahawk
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| War, many shout it but don’t wanna see it
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| I stay low and lay boobytraps like the cong in Viet. |
| nam
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| Loud talkin' and stares can’t do me harm
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| Know some niggas wanna stop it I’m still droppin' the bomb
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| Shit is death like Tennessaucee ring the alarm (ring the alarm)
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| It’s still a mystery to you like the 82nd psalm
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| Some fight 'til the end some sell out like Uncle Tom
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| So much contempt others that’s flow with they jelly like napalm
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| War, is more than hand to hand and firearms
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| It’s only won when the mind is calm
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| So I study Sun-Tzu and stopped smokin' chron'
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| In my left hand riches, long life in my right palm |