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Born with insight and a raised fist
The teacher stands in front of the class. The lesson plan he can't recall.
What? the land of the free.
I'm rolling down Rodeo with a shotgun
Inca, Inca bottle of ink
Whenever you see a cop beating a guy
Killing in the name of
Word is born
Cause I'm inclined to stoop down...
No escape from the mass mind rape
Believing all the lies that they're telling ya
To advertise some hip disguise
Never forget that the whip snapped your back
You know they murdered X and tried to blame it on Islam
Yo, check the diagonal. Three million gone. Come on
If the vibe was suicide then you should push the button
Steppin' it to the jam and I'm slamming like Shaquille
I got a 9, a sign, a set...
With this mic device I spit nonfiction
Yes, I know my deadline, sire.
Now her golden skin burns, insecticide rains
We need to check the interior of the system that cares about only one culture and that is why...
Same bodies buried hungry...
The rotten sore on the face of mother Earth gets bigger
They don't gotta burn the books, they just remove em. While arms wharehouses fill as quick as the cells