| You can clip my wings, shackle and chain me Back straight standing tall a child of God, N’I’m… Free!
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| Spit in my face, hold me down
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| I’ma keep my feet firm to the ground, cuz I’m… Free!
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| Your A&R's a house nigga, the labels the plantation
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| Now switch that advance for your emancipation
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| MC’s are the field like pick cotton for real
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| I pop blocks like beat street with a notch n’a kill
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| They take the strongest of slaves to compete in a track meat
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| For the King of the city sang songs of back streets
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| Choruses of cocaine tales and black heat
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| Only to trade niggas like professional athletes!
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| Don’t take that merchandising, snatch that publishing
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| Practice that black ass, ship you to London
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| By way of France, Germany, Dublin
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| A railroad to underground like Harriet Tubman
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| While ya’ll stay strugglin’we smuggle MC’s through the streets
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| Till we bubblin’on mix CD’s, hustlin'
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| Clans see me on the block n’say freeze
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| I say Fuck You! |
| I’m a man, I’m Free!
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| You can clip my wings, shackle and chain me Back straight standing tall a child of God, N’I’m… Free!
|
| Spit in my face, hold me down
|
| I’ma keep my feet firm to the ground, cuz I’m… Free!
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| I give birth to verses in churches with no confession
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| So please pardon my post-partum depression
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| A-list MC to spit it in C-Sections
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| For immature minds that get it with each lesson
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| Three-fifths of a man ass jigga with no plans
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| How you discussing publishing figures without a band
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| They got digital codes on our music for them to scan
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| So even when you s&le a snare you can’t even clan
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| So google Pharoahe Monch, search Triskaidekaphobia
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| I’ll explain why these city banks Wachovia
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| I’ll peep the future in my sleep, to be honest man
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| We never had a mutual relationship with Washington
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| Why? |
| Because I believe they put the virus in the latex
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| Condoms that they sell us, call it safe sex
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| What I spit, not only causes a glitch in The Matrix
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| But another terrorist that they haven’t faced yet!
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| You can clip my wings, shackle and chain me Back straight standing tall a child of God, N’I’m… Free!
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| Spit in my face, hold me down
|
| I’ma keep my feet firm to the ground, cuz I’m… Free! |