| In the year three thousand and thirty everybody wants to be an MC
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| In the year three thousand and thirty everybody want to be a DJ
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| In the year three thousand and thirty everybody want to be a producer
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| In the year three thousand and thirty
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| Everybody want to tell ya the meaning of the music
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| I must appeal to you people with your faculties
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| 'cause everybody else is gonna laugh at me
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| People try to get over and take a crack at me
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| The universe is one and I can see what rap can be glorious
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| Put in the Smithsonian my podiums for holy hymns
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| But you see who’s controlling them
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| Fuck myself off 'cause of the egotistical mode I’m in
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| No I can’t slap you no five
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| When you and your cutty is talkin' shit about me outside
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| People take pride in what they have no hand in
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| Sorta like a phantom holographic handsome
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| But deep inside he want to do what his man done
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| Just because his peers jeer and and clown
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| When you’re six foot deep no one hears you now
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| They say were not compatible like deers and cows and owls
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| So many rules and regulations say you’re not allowed
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| I’m caught in the grip of the city
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| Madness
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| I’m caught in the grip of the city
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| Madness
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| I’m caught in the grip of the city
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| Madness
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| I’m caught in the grip of the city
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| Madness
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| (my rhyming shield deflects your puny rhymes)
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| If I had to describe the way I survive its like vice squeezin'
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| The reason I’m black and still breathin'
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| Heathens will breed heathens so
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| Everybody’s suspect I must check your ID
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| 'cause you lookin' sheisty you might be intelligence
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| Someone that Del’s against, opposite or positive
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| When I drop the law against nature be faithful
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| Why should I hate you we ain’t that different
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| We may act different in some ways
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| But we still grouped together like a fuckin' survey
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| Sufferin' and fuck em all’s the motto
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| I’m trapped in a bottle
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| My music’s gettin' hollow
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| That’s what happens when humanity you follow
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| Where every leak or info is hard to swallow
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| Sell your Marlboros and car insurance
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| Put niggas on the moon and can’t pay your burdens
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| I smoke herb and rock a turban
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| Meditate on the world and whats occurrin'
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| A lot of white boys like the style and copy
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| Dig in something deeper and you’ll peep that were not free
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| It’s not about the separation its about the population
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| I’m caught in the grip of the city
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| Madness
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| I’m caught in the grip of the city
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| Madness
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| I’m caught in the grip of the city
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| Madness
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| I’m caught in the grip of the city
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| Madness
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| Simple minded people always point the finger
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| To bring it to a close as if life is their role, their path
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| When all paths are intersections
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| It depends on the persons perception
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| When I’m mad as fuck you get shot
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| And to some it’s bad luck
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| I believe you held something back for too long
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| It grew strong
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| And energy got its own will
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| And people think they make music still
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| But music is there with out you or me we just manipulate
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| For better or worse so let it situate
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| I get to make records and dough
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| Paid out the ass hole
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| And still seen as another face on the totem pole
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| Conquer, my sponsors are monsters
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| And everybody thinks that I’m on one
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| I’m glad I love music and life
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| 'cause it’s easy to see the pain and strife and end it all tonight
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| I’m caught in the grip of the city
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| Madness
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| I’m caught in the grip of the city
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| Madness
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| I’m caught in the grip of the city
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| Madness
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| I’m caught in the grip of the city
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| Madness |