| «Good morning, Brook-nam»
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| Another stop… on the train
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| (wake up… wake up… wake up…)
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| We come to a stop that everybody got to make…
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| Whether you local or express
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| What’s the meanin of ghettofabulous
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| Not ridin the back of the bus
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| I’m a revolutionary antagonist
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| Some playas is mad at us for just doin our music out of love
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| Some underground heads is hatin cause we have fun at clubs
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| I’m probably on some government list for my rhymin
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| You a fool if you don’t think they already tapped your line
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| Medicine is big business so my remedies is herbal
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| It’s music is for the people so we Reflection Eternal
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| Listen, you hear the difference between science and science fiction
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| We blow it out like if you leave on every appliance in the kitchen
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| at once; |
| still rolling kind bud in Cuban blunts
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| On the corner watchin how kids comin to Brooklyn for they fronts
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| Niggas run past what they need chasing after what they want
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| Fuckin chumps, you walk down the street and get jumped
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| Brooklyn cats like to bubble out of town no lookin back
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| When you a ghetto chef you mastered the art of cookin crack
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| Some get caught sleepin on the Mother City so when they go They come back as tales of niggas we used to know
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| Never looked up to see the stars in all they heavenly glory
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| Just straight ahead cause the peripheral is buildings with mad stories
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| Not floors but dramas is played out, shorties get laid out
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| like respect and fade out like TV sets
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| into the banks of our memories (let it be) we’ll never forget you
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| Lyin on your deathbed askin for God to bless you
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| Good mourning, good afternoon, good night
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| What have you done with your life?
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| Everybody time comes to be embraced by the light
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| You only scared to die when you ain’t livin right, man
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| I’m puttin up a hellafied fight
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| I need you all to be clear on exactly what I’m sayin
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| With your attention span I understand that I ain’t playin
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| You mistaken if you somehow think it’s just me you facin
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| Starin me down while your enemy is standin adjacent
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| My heart is racin but I know just what I stand for
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| We chasin death carelessly like +Jessica+, I +Care Moore+
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| Who said, «Just because no one can understand how you speak
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| don’t necessarily mean that what you be sayin is deep»
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| In case you die in your sleep you ask the Lord for a blessin
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| Sometimes they sneak up so quiet that the silence is deafenin
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| You’ll never know who the assassin is until it’s your time to go Your life is flashin, askin for forgiveness but you move too slow
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| Now the people that you love bear the pain that you once harbored
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| You was livin for yourself so you could never be a martyr
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| Life is hard, death is harder; |
| you somebody baby father
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| Someone’s lover, son of your mother, somebody brother
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| Somebody nigga, now your spirit in the air like a whisper
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| Hearin your name mentioned when we pourin out some liquor
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| The days go by quicker and the nights don’t seem to differ
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| It’s gettin cold, so I shivered and asked my soul to be delivered
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| Good mourning, good afternoon, good night
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| What have you done with your life?
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| Everybody time comes to be embraced by the light
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| You only scared to die when you ain’t livin right, man
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| I’m puttin up a hellafied fight
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| Yo, the time come for everybody.
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| It ain’t somethin you can really prepare for
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| Yo, yo, Mad Duke, rock rock on and
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| Curtis Mayfield, rock rock on and
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| Grover Washington, rock rock on and
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| My Aunt Hazel, rock rock on and
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| Big L, rock rock on and
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| Freaky Tah rock rock on and
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| Jerome Green, rock rock on and
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| Slang Ton, rock rock on and
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| We celebrate life. |