Here we go, I’m movin' off death row
Ya gotta keep up hops, ya can’t be slow
‘Cause their towers are high, they got the high gats
Check the perimeters good, Read the maps
It’s night, they might not see us
‘Cause if they catch us out there, they’ll bleed us Shoot us, kill us, dump us in a dark ditch
Clean it up, call it a gang hit
I gotta make my move, ‘cause I’m a renegade
I recognize when mind techniques are being played
It’s a plot they use to keep down another
Here comes another brainwashed brother…
«Yo man, it sounds like you’re selling out to me, ‘cause I’m from the ghetto;
I lived in the ghetto all my life!
We ain’t supposed to leave here! We’re black! We’re supposed to be poor!»
Shut up! Do you know how dumb you sound?
That mentality’s what keeps my people down!
No one wants to live in an urban war
You live there cause your parents were poor
They live there because theirs were also
Get yourself together, hit the gates bro!
CHORUS
Ya gotta get out! Ya gotta get out! Why?
Ya gotta get out! Ya gotta get out! Why?
Ya gotta get out! Ya gotta get out! Why?
‘Cause the fields are where you die!
I escaped from the killing fields!
I escaped from the killing fields!
You try to keep us running and running faster
But I ain’t runnin' from ya; I’m runnin' at ya!
And my posse’s thick, about a mil strong
Too late to make up now, cause it’s on
I’m the one that’s got ya in constant fear
I’m the nigga ya shoulda killed last year
But you played yourself: you let me gain wealth
Now I can change the way the cards are dealt!
I’ve schooled my homeboys, made 'em all understand
The tricks and twists inflicted on the Black man
How ya make me think to be down
I gotta stay around
Down in the motherfuckin' battleground
«We got the Puerto Ricans where we want 'em, we got the Mexicans and the Blacks
where we want 'em… Well, shit, they’re all Black! We gotta keep 'em together,
the same way we got those fuckin' Indians!»
There’ll never be any good schools in the hood
There’ll never be any cops that are any good!
The hospital is a great place to go to die
Real estate’s cheap, let me tell ya why
The man’s got a sure fire system:
A economic prison!
CHORUS
I escaped from the killing fields!

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