| Up in the caravan with Taliban who cock the fifth
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| Bush ran from a war and straight ducked that
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| Bush wanna send me to war? |
| I say fuck that
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| We war and buck back with the cannon or knife
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| Cause Vinnie Paz ain’t have a problem with Iran in his life
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| And I ain’t got a problem stabbing up your man with a spike
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| But I got a problem murdering a man and his wife
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| For some land that I ain’t never even stand in my life
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| For a man who couldn’t tell you what abandonment’s like
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| Been scammed all my life from Reaganomics to the crack war
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| And y’all are wondering what we run around with gats for
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| All I ask for is a good night’s sleep
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| So I pray to Allah hoping that the hood might eat
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| Each one teaches ones but the hood like beef
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| But I’m a hypocrite daddy so I pull my heat
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| We fighting a war in the jungle of the ghetto
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| Your life will be gone once we hurt you with the metal
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| We blast at the system, bang for the streets
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| Urban gorillas mutherfuckers hanging the beast
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| We fighting a war in the jungle of the ghetto
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| Your life will be gone once we hurt you with the metal
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| We blast at the system, bang for the streets
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| Urban gorillas mutherfuckers hanging the beast
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| We urban gorillas on the move like John Africa
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| We the masses that practice tactics right out of Attica
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| We blast at you, catch you for hostage, torture demons
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| For all the bleeding we must have war before freedom
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| Y’all fiending and loathing hopes to reach an atonement
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| We’ll have peace in a moment after we beat our opponents
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| We jonesing like Jonestown Massacre, the White Knight
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| Forcing suicides spike your soft drinks with cyanide
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| Call it payback for what you made and inflicted
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| We live in a world being lead by racists and bigots
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| We stripped the land from the natives and chose to call them Americans
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| Then claimed it as ours as if they forfeit inheritance
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| It’s evident intelligence and weapons become medicine
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| We’ll overthrow the devils in power and move ahead of them
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| We veterans from poverty, we rocking the streets
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| Freedom and equality come when we conquer the beast
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| With the right to bear arms I’m excited to throw one
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| Q the urban gorilla, Brooklyn’s Mighty Joe Young
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| That faces the firing squad that’ll spit on three
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| Screaming till my death, «King Kong ain’t got shit on me.»
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| I beat on my chest with the game of a Silverback
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| I don’t fire warning shots, take aim with a killer gat
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| Them peace talks and rallies will get so far
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| Fight the most powerful imperialists in the name of Elizam Escobar
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| Guerrilla warfare training camps in the projects
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| ? |
| climb the staircase till your heart rate progress
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| I spit possessed by the soul of Albizu
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| Lead rips through your chest till the welfare let go of my people
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| I was raised in the Bronx, Congo jungle
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| Where the Ball Busters and Zulus locked in a mondo rumble
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| And you could lose your gold over a Bronco fumble
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| And the CIA faggots interrogate your sidekick until your Tonto crumbles |