| Land of the free, but the skin I’m in identifies me
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| So the people around me energize me
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| Callin' all aboard this train ride
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| Talkin' 'bout raw hardcore, leavin' frauds on the outside
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| But the bad thing is anyone can ride the train
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| And the reason for that is cause we look the same
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| Lookin' all around at my so called friend
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| Light skin to the brown, the black, here we go again
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| Homey over there knows Keith an, but he be thiefin'
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| I don’t trust him, rather bust 'em up
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| Out goes his hand and I cough
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| He once stole from me, yeah I wanna cut it off
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| The black thing is a ride I call the nighttrain
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| It rides the good and the bad, we call the monkey trained
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| Trained to attack the black and it’s true
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| Cause some of them lookin' just like you
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| Stayin' on the scene, sittin' on the train
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| See all the faces look about the same
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| There go the sellout who’s takin' a ride like Cargo
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| Cause he deal the keys from Key Largo
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| Runnin' Nat narcotic, by George he got it
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| Takin' makin' the Gs erotic
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| And the fiends they scheme, so he can put 'em down
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| But his method is wreck 'em, I put 'em in the ground
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| Got the nerve as hell to yell brother man
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| He ain’t black man better yet he’s Pac Man
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| Known to murder his own, traitor on the phone
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| Ridin' the train, self-hater trained to sell pain
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| The master’s toy, his little boy
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| Hard to avoid he look wit' it but he null 'n' void
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| Cause he ridin' the train you think he down for the cause
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| Cause his face lookin' just like yours
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| More of the same, insane who sayin'
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| I’m flowin' like nighttrain, runnin' the pain of the black reign
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| You look, you laugh, you doubt and go out
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| And I’m gone, but the bass goes on
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| To talk the talk, but walk the walk, the king of New York
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| Crack a lack, attack the black, to crack the back
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| Once again I test a friend with sincerity
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| Or consider him an enemy
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| Who am I to tell a lie, rather push the Bush
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| Hope the cracker gets crushed, I’m rollin' with Rush
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| Leader of the bum rush
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| Russian I ain’t! |
| Spreadin' like paint!
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| Lookin' at the pot I got and it’s kickin'
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| But it ain’t chicken, but it’s livin' for a city, so sick 'n' tired
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| Of a scene buckwild
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| Piled in a file, senile or child
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| They said it never been no worser than this
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| I’m on the nighttrain, they hope ya don’t miss it
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| Give ya what they got to give you, just go
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| You musn’t just put your trust in every brother, yo
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| Some don’t give a damn, cause they the other man
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| Worse than a bomb, posin' as Uncle Toms
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| Disgracin' the race, and blowin' up the whole crew
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| With some of them lookin' just like you |