| Callin' haves and have nots
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| Every cell on the block
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| Every nigga with a trigger, empty barreled or cocked
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| March in like parade of scars if you been stabbed or shot
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| Son, we smokin' these batons right in front of these cops
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| Callin' out to the kids, all my niggas with bids
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| Whether suited up or booted up or stuck in the mid
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| You can download it or boot it up, my pupils unlid
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| All my students of the underground with record store gigs
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| Callin' out to the girls, the inventors of worlds
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| The intelligence of relevance and elegant pearls
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| Pour like nectar from the lotus big bang opus in swirls
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| Down the sweaty backs of hairyweave tracks and dried jheri curls
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| Callin' out to the pimps hat cocked slump with your gimp
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| On your wrist with just a twist of lime to go with that limp
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| Hold your cup up so this ancient rain can find its way in
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| Let these niggas know the cost of reaching heavenly bliss, yes
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| Scared money don’t make none (x4)
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| Scared money don’t make none (x4)
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| It was all a dream, I used to fantasize I was Malcolm
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| Or Martin in the pulpit, the ballot or the bullet
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| I swear I used to pray to change back the year
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| When niggas spoke of motherships with space helmets for hair
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| Well, now what have we here? |
| Thugs and poets, ah yeah
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| What we seem to have in common is we’re common as air
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| Yes, the lowest rung of anthems sung each day every year
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| From cheque cashing to latest fashions, while they ration out fear
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| But I’m fearless, sometimes I feel alone, homeless, peerless
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| What will it take to shake the land for everyone to hear this?
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| I can’t bear this, born of pages torn from ancient prayer lists
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| Descendant of the womb, the lotus blooms when I come near it
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| I declare it, time to realign karat to carrot
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| What was olden remains golden sceptered tongue I dare to share it
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| All who hear it know at once, royal highness over blunts
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| Thug of thugs, pimp of pimps, golden tongue and ivory fronts
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| Grind and hustle, niggas know the heart is just a muscle
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| All payments due, you made some papes I wrote upon I trust you will invest
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| 'Cause chances are the game is just a test
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| Professor of the truth talk real truth emeritus
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| I am the king, as I command my son to dance and sing
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| We celebrate our earthly fate, my daughter gives me wings
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| We are one, descendants of the mothership and tongue
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| Southern trees have born strange fruit, hail, salute a troop well hung
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| So come along, everyone’s invited
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| Heroes of distinguished paths, victims and conquered
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| Those who stand alone and those who stand unfettered
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| Fuck the bullshit whether from the hill or from the pulpit
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| Today, I put my money on the fall of every culprit
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| Truth prevails, when all else fails drug dealers make the music
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| Then guess who’s back? |
| Your souls answer to greenbacks, hoes and crack
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| The chord that strung from anthems sung right now to way way back
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| The legacy of Hennessey distilled to brownish black
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| Rolls off the tongue a pointed gun, fake nigga’s best stand back
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| The trumpet calls and yes, yes, y’all, the emperor’s changed his hat |