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1.Abandoned language only when i thought my masses couldn't manage.Wisdom gained with age is lost to page as adage.So tragic, that average trajectory.Incendiary thought and vast vocabulary makes none the less of savage.A fist or full clip might be quick to split that cabbage.This breath? It takes tactics.Haven't quite mastered movements after three full decks.What we seem to go through rarely ever makes sense.From the scorching country fields to the heart of projects,What we know of history's always marred in violence.So I, Etch my own stone into tablets.Never felt a need to live elaborate.Fuck them pretty niggas with their rings and silk fabrics.Need an ear to concrete to speak correct grammatics.Heard same beauty in my noise where the rest heard static.I've had it, Trying to explain this same formula.Perfect paranoia.Don't let me trust a soldier.Thought we'd all understand now since we're older.They pass manilla folders and 100,000 die.They built the public schools with factory workers in their eyes.Since we don't manufacture now they don't need men.It's easier to start wars than it is to feed kids.Damn we callous.We kept off balance.SongtexteKept off balance as i harness raw talentsSaid a million times prefer bullets to ballotsKept off balanceIdeas are valid.2.Ideas are valid.They say i'd best whisperIdeas are validThey say i'd best whisperi say i'll keep a pen to pad and fingers on triggers.Should i aim at own temple or several?Can't figure.It's hard to focus, perhaps our last opus.If younger heads quote this, then it ain't all hopeless.I wrote this with intent to resurrect a John Carlos,A Huey Newton, a Gueverra in the midst.Can't accept the struggle's dead when there's blood on our lips.Positions shift but survival's all basic.Ain't a fuckin' thing sacred nowadays kid.Perhaps the racists ain't blatant but what's really changed?Our peoples been trained to live in tight cage.The only thing we feel is mad rage.The closest thing to bring a smile to parched lips slipped silent through arthritic grip.A stoic life lasts instant.A starved infant would best paint state of our conditions.Populous with no ambitionContent to tear at flesh formed somber progression.So where's the lessons to digest within aggression?These filthy blocks are all immersed in raw tension.Meanwhile they act like poverty was our invention.The meek inherent what and when is my question.I read your weak history text that never mentionA solitary second of my people's true intentions.Astute observations kept us mentally replenished.Resumed rituals retold tales as heretic, within my speech lies the last of my heritage.Hit headshots with higher average.All caught in labyrinth, shine when i speak you can't handle it.Chorus:Turn that page muthafucka cause our story's all scripted.600 years, ain't a fuckin thing different.Don't speak to us about strength and upliftment.The closest thing to paradise is mad distant.3.Mind's prism imprisons what light enters to ruin negativereactions attract interest from factions that lack oral traditionsIn fact speech muted like Miles' horn.Though humble my soul's tornTempted to tell moreLabeled a failureYou fail to see my coreWon't let you just ignoreThis fight's what we live forFragile image ignites wrath of ancestors.Revamped rhyme pattern gathers pulse from street warsi seek moreperhaps life's still atypical.Experience has got me cynical.Seen our best clipped at pinnacle.Provide cyanide in form of capsule.At times it seems my breath is just a hassleMasked men poised to kidnap for known ransomRansack a stack of ill writtensReduced to ramble.Why's our inner streets left in shambles?I know a niggas got to eat.... but do we got to play sambo?Suburban copies sloppily repeat what seen on airwaves.Completely miss gist of dimly lit stairways.How dare they make us trivialMade it seem we never countedMy culture's demise was more literal than it soundedTheories well grounded, inevitably unearth skeletons of fellow men.Pristine bones got bleached of their melaninWhile they teach mere scraps of tinged truthCorrupts youthViews constrict these pupils.The useful made fools with eyes that blur proofs.My manner's uncouth as they complete loop.Kept cyclical sense of this noose. Aus Songtexte Mania