there's no rest for the weary, just another day grinding up stonesn'til they turn into dust, it's tough times in the roughndiamonds ain't enough to cover up a corrupted and fucked up nlegacy of strange food, bloody whips and small pox, trigger happy cops, nbarbed wire and fire water, y'all it don't stopnwhen the colonizer came with the cross and the sword,nI threw the first spear and said I declare war!nI'm a battle scar-wearin' heir apparent,ndescendant of a long lineage of proletariat and peasantnnso check the work ethic in the namenthe lessons might change, but the essence of the message is the samenso when they say anything, say why is it?nclass is in session 'til the teacher gets a pink slipnnI ride the rhythm, imbibe a little wine talknhead get the concrete to line with your spinenI speak to find peace, but it's war all the timenit's deep like the drive from Renton to ShorelinenI'm a more mindful guy ever since finding out thatnI'm about to be a father, and doubt is not an optionnand now I can't be getting crunked and faded as oftennso get your hands dirty, 'cause a prayer ain't enough, bossnwhat cross? we got crucified by buckshotsnone million Jesuses and Judas got his nuts offnpages, torn out the memory of those who remainnshackled with the chains of international capital gainnthey claim civilized, but they animal waysnpeace to Oakland, I've never been a fan of the A'snbut some days you can find me inscribing my nsoul on the page, every crime has an alibindisciplined and organized, is how I handle mynjacks are spending mad time on their battle rhymesnI can't knock it if you find it entertainingnI rep those whose labor ain't compensatednnso check the work ethic in the namenthe lessons might change, but the essence of the message is the samenso when they say anything, say why is it?nclass is in session 'til the teacher gets a pink slipnnforty to a class, no wonder we're delinquentnhalf the school district never make it to commencementnI bend the spine of the track until it snapsnpop's working overtime and he got a broken backngot three little sisters, one brother in Iraqnand ma prays novenas to keep the fam intactnbut the song ain't a psalm waiting for God to answernbrothers call me dog, they got the letters backwardsnI'm back with a plan of attack to repossess my name, face and history, y'allnwho wanna test my capacity to spit caliber shit into a rhythmic lessonnand edutainment it's a legitimate weaponnigniting the cipher sessions, I'm deciphering life,nand blending both theory and into practicenI write vernacular, and actual fact, God, no posturin'na thousand pointing fingers, I defied every one of 'emnI ride for my brethren who carry the burden,nof a future uncertain 'til the fall of the curtain, you better movenhold your head high soldier, it ain't over yetnthat's why we call it a struggle, you're supposed to sweatnnso check the work ethic in the namenthe lessons might change, but the essence of the message is the samenso when they say anything, say why is it?nclass is in session 'til the teacher gets a pink slipnncrazy landlady tried to switch up on the leasenif she raises up the rent again it's time to say peacenpeace, peace, and that's my piecenit's still all about the bullet in the belly of the beastnfrom the east, my brother, we camennthe lessons might change, but the essence of the message is the samenso when they say anything, say why is it?nclass is in session 'til the teacher gets a pink slipnnso keep marching 'til your feet split opennno rest for the weary, blue scholars keep goin'n