It’s like the slaves of a million people are in our hands
Chains are braided within our skin cause we’re stealing brands
Labels resurrected in urban places just to stand
Upon the shoulders of man — Atlas without a plan
Tasteless yet deep with ink — written in struggles
Hustling, labor favors resented pictures of contraband
Contrary to popular tales of Wonderland
I ain’t seen the chalice or Alice, the Holy Grail’s a sham
Is it the fault of ourselves, like in a gerbil wheel?
Verbiage and verses make it spin and still we’re standing still
And will it kill us -- the blacks, the whites, Koreans, Latinos
Whoever can rep the best where the hood runs through?
To my demise — a miser who never changes his views
Proven that volumes of the truth are catalogued as fiction
Caused when they say the «fact will give it back to those who listen
Wishing my relevance bettered the better men to be the better man
Who never step on Weather-Men who praise the Grand
Talking away our obligations just for satiation
Placing complacency above what was the height and aim
In Our sole reservations- --stuffed ‘em and had ‘em twisted
Fist ‘em and fuck ‘em — ditched ‘em. Never sever the quill
Shit — it’s my business
Never lay in waste to make them shiftless positions
Keeping it crucial, sifting heavy, losing trust
i need to get it down how to stay up Native son
yeah, Richard was right
Get ya' face left tight
Place From where pockets tight with the paper ain’t safe right?
Premeditated changes the status of a case
The onion could mean the ready base
Or the the curve of her ass shape
Straight lace like fish-scale after razorblades
With the majority hoping God will save from fairy tales in a dead man’s grave
And it’s Orson Welles — citizen Kane
Fiends Philistines at the gate
With Popes still burnin' witches at the stake
and that’s Sixtus when its Moscow time the arms Invictus
Beyond the limits of Lucius trust
Mad political they Polly for the interest
And still my eyes remain against
sunrise and Mediterranean sunset
Holding Me Down…
Holding Me Down…
And then it’s sunrise
And the light kisses ya face
You know how it makes
You Dig under the covers and grab the pillow case
And point and pace, won’t wait
And last night date ain’t left smell of sex and after taste
Aches for an afterlife like fiends find escape after pipe
Sky high in mid air Prepared for the fall
At civilization’s dawn
No hocus pocus and magic wands
Just «NATO» squadrons
they Dazzle skylines
with drones And napalm son