| Whoo
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| Yeah, man
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| They out here prostitutin' kiddos
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| Fill they pockets with dinero
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| Pedophiles, pitiful
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| Sell a child to centerfold
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| Take they innocence, put in on the internet
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| Purities tainted, dignities shaken
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| Enslavin' the soul of all of these babies
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| And freedom got a price nobody payin'
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| Makin' money, American dream ain’t it, nah!
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| It’s a nightmare, don’t fight fair for white here
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| Benjamin Franklins, killin' we hate for him
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| Write a song justifyin' the lies we take for him, hold up
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| They ain’t with me, I’m willin' to wait for 'em
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| Lil' me sat up on the porch, thinkin' dolla bills
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| Stomach filled from another meal that my momma killed still
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| I can’t keep still
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| I’d probably steal to keep a couple of Nike checks on the back of my heels
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| Grandma back on them pills
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| I need a stack of them bills
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| They say we slaves to the money
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| I guess we back on the field
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| I’ma go pursue my happiness, they told me it was free
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| But I’m still payin' for it, I’m indebted to this thing
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| Heard a prophet say the profit, don’t focus on makin' change
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| Just focus on tryna be it and maybe you’ll make a gain
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| Maybe you’ll free the slaves, maybe you’ll bring a change
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| The destinations are different but everyone’s on the train
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| Freedom isn’t free
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| But I still, I still believe in my freedom
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| So my mind can see
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| Please let me be free, please let me
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| Freedom
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| I’m out here chasin' this freedom
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| They out here choppin' my feet off
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| And if they catch me I’m Toby, but I ain’t 'bout to believe it
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| King Kunta, or king of coonin', or Kenan & Kel
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| Rather rot in a jail cell than be up in hell, well
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| Well done, is you cookin' or is you hearin' your Father say, «Well done»?
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| Is He lookin' at all your honors?
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| Modestly I’ll be honest, I’m hangin' onto that promise
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| 'Cause honestly I ain’t really been everything that I oughta
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| Oughta be on my Harriet, bury me next to Honest Abe
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| Here lies another man murdered for tryna free the slaves
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| I gave Chief Keef my number in New York this summer
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| I told him, «I could get you free», I’m on my Nat Turner
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| Back burner, cookin' up a fat burger
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| While we shuck and jive to a song about a crack murder
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| Know we need a change but we threw it on the stage
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| Got some money and a soul and neither one of us saved
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| Slaves, get free
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| Freedom, it isn’t free
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| But I still, I still believe in our freedom
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| So my mind can see
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| Please let me be free, please let me be free
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| Freedom
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| Freedom, freedom, freedom |