| A yo the road I travel is full of hard times and hard rhymes
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| Lost souls with strong minds, Visionaries have gone blind
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| Politicians that love crime, Missionaries missed the warning signs
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| On this road I travel, I had the long nights with tears
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| God whispered to me have no fear
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| I’m perfecting the path, putting pieces of the puzzle together
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| You and the rats won’t struggle forever
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| On this road I travel, I heard the drums bang in the slums
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| While the hustlers be bangin they guns
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| And the poor, they just begging for crumbs
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| Some preachers still begging for funds
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| Outsiders catch a vibe when they come
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| On this road I travel, mysteries unravel
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| Cases get caught by the thunder of the judges gavel
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| From nine months to nine years
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| Sometimes my only peace is the pen and the poetry of my peers
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| Yo it’s like a heat wave
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| Beats Blaze
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| We write to the rhythm the street plays
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| We told you pray for the morning, but you didn’t heed the warning
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| Yo it’s like a sound storm
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| Crowds swarm
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| We got them worried from the bury to California |
| Prayin for the morning, but you didn’t heed the warning
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| They call me Raphi shock stopper. |
| Lightning bolt blocker
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| I’m a grown up. |
| Blown up head bubble popper. |
| Tightrope walker
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| Not the typical belly flopper in a record pool
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| I say, «Don't play doormat!»
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| Get your back up off the floor and act like it’s your crib
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| Flip the script and steal the show. |
| Grand theft ad lib
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| I’m a hybrid wiz kid amid the greats
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| Shoveling through record crates and I got what it takes
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| Don’t wanna babble. |
| I want to be the one who educates with class
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| Speak a lesson quick. |
| Fast enough to give you whiplash
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| You’re still throwing out that lip trash?
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| Now you’re about to crash
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| From cell blocks to bell rocks, my clientele jocks
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| So ask any one of the many what they thought
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| There will not be those who left untuned
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| Some diss, some jock, some listen, some talk
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| But all of them felt something about the groove
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| That proves that I’m certified top notch
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| A West sider knight writer, I ain’t a baywatch
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| Yo it’s like a heat wave
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| Beats Blaze |
| We write to the rhythm the street plays
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| We told you pray for the morning, but you didn’t heed the warning
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| Yo it’s like a sound storm
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| Crowds swarm
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| We got them worried from the bury to California
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| Prayin for the morning, but you didn’t heed the warning
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| I write rhymes to the lights of the city while I’m floating down the freeway
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| Inhaling dirt through my lungs push auto replay
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| Words are coming at the speed of sound
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| Cali quakes when Big Shame and this kid from New Breed’s in town
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| And the world feel the after shock for all them cats that forgot we make the
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| planet rock
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| It’s lonely at the top that’s why we came with the clan
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| We knew from Tunnel Vision that we had the master plan
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| It seems to me that a responsibility’s on my back
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| To bring back a respect for this art
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| So we do it from the heart
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| That way, a light can shine
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| Plus, I rhyme to find some kind of divine vent for my rage
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| This cage-like white rage might seem suitable
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| Heinous crime for a dangerous mind isn’t do-able
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| So kid, got a beautiful floweth over my cup |
| From Mission Park to Cali
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| Quakin' forever shakin' it up |