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(Talib Kweli) |
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These niggaz ain't thugs, the real thugs is the government |
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Don't matter if you independent, democrat or republican |
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Niggaz politickin the street, get into beef |
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Start blastin, now a new cat is executive chief |
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With a, passion for heat you get, blast in yo' seat |
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Die before you crash in yo' Jeep, never passin in your sleep |
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like an old man, you ain't a fool you got a whole plan |
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to conquer territories like Europeans who stole land |
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The future of your whole fam' hang in the balance |
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You the king, and your block is the palace |
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Y'all niggaz is the parliament, untouchable, spot unrushable |
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Keep your weight wet, call in collect to save a buck or two |
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Get mad, who the fuck are you? What you gonna do? |
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Exactly what I thought - NOTHIN, in the sport of frontin |
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you the undisputed champion, I'm in a class you can't be in |
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My words is flesh like Jesus, the aquarian |
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(*scratched* "Let's stop right here) |
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("So you think that I'm a fool..") |
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("Ayy man.. (??)") |
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(Chorus) (Talib Kweli & Kool G. Rap) |
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(T) It's just a chapter of the night, in the ghetto afterlife |
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Where you just seen or heard about or gonna have to fight |
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(K.G) Where they sacrifice the life and niggaz see flashes of light |
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When you trapped up in the heights but clappers aimin at the wife |
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(Talib Kweli) |
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Yeah, dudes gettin money is still thuggin |
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Chicks gettin money is still ghetto |
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Still livin the whole thuggish stilleto |
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Your team let the metal burst before you take an L |
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you raised in hell, let the dust settle first |
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Then you ask the question, snatchin the life of the innocent |
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Shit happens huh, a man's respected by his actions |
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It's the karma of the street, you try to meet the karma |
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while the karma sleep, yo it's deep, but the karma can't be beat |
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You don't know your enemy, so you fightin with yourself |
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Relate to rap niggaz cause they writin what you felt |
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You got top shelf connects you gettin seasoned like a veteran |
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We suck the venom out the snake bite, without the medicine |
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We benefit from niggaz in tenements, dyin for benjamins |
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So bad that they know they own coffin measurements |
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Ghetto eloquence, in the moment of truth, don't be hesistant |
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or fall victim to the element, word is bond |
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"So while y'all keep on fakin the funk, |
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we gonna keep on walkin through the darkness carryin our torches" |
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-> DJ Premier |
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*scratched* "I'ma give-give-give it to-to you straight" |
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"Straight up and down!" -> DJ Premier |
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(Chorus) (Talib Kweli & Kool G. Rap) |
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(T) Just another chapter of the night, in the ghetto afterlife |
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Where you just seen or heard about or gonna have to fight |
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(K.G) Where they sacrifice the life and niggaz see flashes of light |
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When you trapped up in the heights but clappers aimin at the wife |
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(Kool G. Rap) |
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Niggaz get caught up in the struggle |
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End up in court in trouble, sportin a bubble |
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Ford azure bubble, importer smuggle, forcin a rumble |
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Hit the blocks with a portion to double |
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Flip and get tossed in the huddle |
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Police with one piece short of the puzzle |
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It's a hustle, peep the street life, they movin muscle |
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and the G's'll make your knees buckle |
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Tussle with heat until your feet stand in a pee puddle |
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Cheese double but all the speedy niggaz bleed puddles |
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Make the headlines; some try to escape the fed time |
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Phone taps on direct lines - tec-9's with the red shine |
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Jake climbin through the bedroom blinds |
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Tryin to bring you to your deadline, it's slippery when wet signs |
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Red time, wipe the sweat around your neck time |
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One shot spill out your red wine, rock shots to deafen your prime |
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Pieces of hot lead left in your mind |
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One slug to the left of your spine |
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Forever late to rest on the shrine |
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("So you think that I'm a fool..") |
