now what I spit, it's medicine for the sick nan attempt to get a grip before it all starts to slip nand be the call and response from the bottomless pit nI remain nonchalant when the drama get thick nthe last call, ballin' up my palm in a fist nthe most common misperception is this ndrop and say, why the show, sign a line nhit the road, hit some hoes, videos nnext you know, you'll be bawlin' and shit nbut you'll be calling it quits nwhen all the cards start to fall in the ditch ncause temptation is so hard to resist nno there's no such thing as an unjustified existence nexcept perhaps a few thousand rappers in this business nfinish what I start, scientifically, strategicallynspecifically addressin' the oblivion we livin' in nmy brother and my sister and I'm speaking are you listening nfreedom being imprisoned by the television image nif you let it instead get affected by your habitatnask a few questions, quit a few bad habits and after that nhandle this similar to how Xavier McDaniel did in '86nwe're talking just a little less shit nand lately being mindful of the babies I admit nbut at nighttime I sit serenaded by the blues of a skyline hue nreminding me of a time when the old was newnnand I spark a fire for the cold and the darknpeace and war both pumpin' soul in my heartnand though they can't keep what they stole from the artnand they love to see beef 'cause it throws us apartnmore fire for the peoplensay more jobs for the peoplenand more books for the peoplenand more music for the peoplennas the world hurls towards seven billion more listeners nseven hundred plus see the killed and held prisoners nseven thousand one hundred islands I been missing ncause I grind seven to five, at night I'm writing scriptures nas hot as the block as cold contradictions npen drips with honesty, I don't offer fiction ngo to competition the bone that they try to pick with me nand learn the moral lesson and marching forward to victory nno flag waving, celebrating your invasionnyou call it thanksgiving, we call it things taken neverybody looking for the ladder not the answer to the question nwaiting till the cancer's in regression nfresh from the northwest, the hottest thing lately nlike white celebrities buying black and brown babies ngot the town crazy over beats rhymes and life npeace with adobo grease, eggs and brown ricennand I spark a fire for the cold in the darknpeace and war both pumpin' soul in my heartnand though they can't keep what they stole from the artnthey love to see beef 'cause it throws us apartnmore fire for the peoplenmore food for the peoplenmore homes for the peoplenmore clothes for the peoplenmore schools for the peoplenmore land for the peoplenmore life for the peoplennyo, I've seen souls get sold so coldly nsee what a dollar can do to the tiger that true nI speak boldly, composed of a melody told nwhenever we hold the memory close nno telling when the reaper fed a post and snatched a fan nsomething that you can't capture with the camera lensna relation of the boulder and a hammerin' pen nthe truth hurts, no wonder people rather pretend nI annihilate a fake persona for spare change neverybody, self included, is fair gameninherited the trait to make both ends meet noften make a brother feel like he gotta compete nbut with each release I reach for peace nothers quit to reach for the pigs from here to beacon to bridgen'cause see, freedom of speech don't apply if you're silent nI shout like I'm trying to get heard on the islandnnand I spark the fire for the cold in the darknpeace and war both pumpin' soul in my heartnand though they can't keep what they stole from the artnand they love to see beef 'cause it throws us apartnmore fire for the peoplenmore peace for the peoplenmore life for the peoplenmore love for the peoplenmore love for the peoplenmore love for the peoplenmore love for the peoplen