| Inequality is really unprecedented
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| Talking about the American dream, it’s all collapsed
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| There was an expectation that things were gonna get better
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| There isn’t today
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| Half-grinned dotty eyes, shadowed by his hat brims
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| Stocks press red line, shotty in the black Benz
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| Five fetched headlines, followed by a rap fiend
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| Red blood dripping in a black sink
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| Bottom line back end, money in a fat link
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| Gold chain, full drinks spilling on his linens with the cocaine
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| Women on his tip, made the models nervous
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| Putting waitresses through college with the bottle service
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| The kind of drug dealer’s dreams you can follow furthest
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| Using yesterday’s bullets for tomorrow’s murders
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| Laughing with the passion with the masterminds, just to pass the time
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| Raise a glass of wine for the working man, he’s asinine
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| The craft of crime, blue collar tradition
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| The high class or the two dollar edition
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| All salute to the man sipping cold whiskey
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| Where pursuit of the gold could be so risky
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| Once upon a time in America
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| We were told that the roads would be paved with gold
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| But when the well’s done drained and the shells come flying
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| Go to church but it still won’t save your soul
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| Once upon a time in America
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| We were told that the roads would be paved with gold
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| But when the blocks get shot up while the cops sweat product
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| Go to church but it still won’t save your soul
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| My whole circle is large, barbarians with surgical scars
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| Send you vertical to the stars while avoiding the murder charge
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| Blow your brains like Kennedy in convertible cars
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| We stay trapped on the block like cows herded on farms
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| Heard the alarm, then my brain froze
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| I’m marked with plain clothes
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| Hopping out and popping my peoples, giving em halos
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| The beast feast on fear and power and greed
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| Powder the weed, planting weapons where the innocent bleed
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| The ignorant breed descended wicked sons with guns
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| To shoot first, then interrogate with bloods in my lungs
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| I swear to Jesus the police are the fiendish serving to Satan
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| A serpent’s forsaken the searches they nervously shaking
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| The shots shatter sound matter, body splatters and drops
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| Scatter the block, ain’t a predator deadlier than the cop
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| Nightsticks leaving sticky blood stains on my white kicks
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| For slinging that white, bitch, I stay on the night shift
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| Once upon a time in America
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| We were told that the roads would be paved with gold
|
| But when the well’s done drained and the shells come flying
|
| Go to church but it still won’t save your soul
|
| Once upon a time in America
|
| We were told that the roads would be paved with gold
|
| But when the blocks get shot up while the cops sweat product
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| Go to church but it still won’t save your soul
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| Went from blocks in the sandbox to rocks on my man’s block
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| The only threat, these fag cops
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| Kept it moving like black ops
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| Used to be park bench philosophers
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| The forty ounce bottle mafia, now we sipping wine with tilapia
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| Whether from Crooklyn or Compton, turn your problems to options
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| Fuck devils, demons and monsters, American dreaming, constant
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| Building schemes up to profit, built to defeat the nonsense
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| Either kill em with kindness or pop them and drop them in a ditch
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| On to the next endeavor, we investing forever
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| But tomorrow’s a lifetime away from this very second
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| And it only takes a second to fire a gun
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| Another second to die young
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| Is this the American dream or a nightmare? |
| Is life fair?
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| I don’t know but I’ll be right there
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| With ya if they try to hit ya, standing back-to-back with pistols in the picture
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| Eight million stories like the riddles in the scripture
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| Once upon a time in America
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| We were told that the roads would be paved with gold
|
| But when the well’s done drained and the shells come flying
|
| Go to church but it still won’t save your soul
|
| Once upon a time in America
|
| We were told that the roads would be paved with gold
|
| But when the blocks get shot up while the cops sweat product
|
| Go to church but it still won’t save your soul |