Lyrics We Are The Ones - The Coup

We Are The Ones

We — we are the ones
We’ll seal your fate, tear down your state, go get yo' guns
We — we came to fight
It’s yo' disgrace, smash up your place, that’s just polite
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Once upon a time when crack was gold
And hip-hop was not yet platinum sold
I scoured the streets for stacks to fold
My mood like my hair was relaxed and blowed
I hated police and my teachers were beasts
My heat in the trunk of the classic Caprice
The one university I knew was Yale
So I cooked it, bagged it, put it on sale
Now philosophically you’d be opposed
To one inhaling coke via mouth or the nose
But economically I would propose
That you go eat a dick as employment froze
And I felt like an abandoned child
Left to fend for myself in the wild
While every courtroom, judge and gavel
Were there to bury me under the gravel
Or at the bottom of the finest malt ale
Observe;
you’ll find without fail
That in every neighborhood and penitentiary
There exists many others who are similar to me and
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In later years I lost some peers
Who mixed burners with Belvedere
And took shots from gung-ho cashiers
The world was cold yet hell was near
So I seek for a kilo
And my stack got a little bit taller like Skee-Lo
A street CEO
There was all of this heroin and not one hero
The intensity was fortified
As I clenched five digits on the forty-five
Belly down at the retail store I would detail more
But I don’t wish this action to be glorified
There was a plan I was eager to listen
To not sleep in the park in the fetal position
Having to wipe off canine fecal emission
Otherwise I’d survive without legal permission
It’s an equal division and then we go to prison, which is a little decision
All I wanted was a Regal to glisten
And my kids would have meat in the kitchen and complete ammunition
It’s a given once the people are driven that
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Get your work up!
Get your work up!
We are born from the mildew, the rust, the heathenous lust
The dreams in the dust, the evidence flushed
The grieving is just, they’re thieving from us
Insulted and cussed, this evening we bust
Our pay’s unstable and under the table
We like free speech but we love free cable
We’re taught from the cradle the Bill Gates fable
Which leads to high speeds in Buick LeSables
We have no excuses just great alibis
And poker faces you can’t analyze
Our politicians sell our soul and our cries
With blood on their hands they can’t sanitize
We’re the have-nots, but we’re also the gon'-gets
Not just talkin 'bout the Lex with the chrome kits
You can get that by yourself with the four-fifth
Let’s all own shit then toast with Patron hits
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