[Intro]
You really don't understand, do you?
Hey man, don't you realize in order for us to make this thing work man
We've got to get rid of the pimps and the pushers and the prostitutes
And then start all over again clean?
Hey look, nobody's pushing me anywhere, ok?
I mean not you, not the cops, nobody man
I mean you wanna get rid of the pushers I'll help you
But don't send your people left to me
Oh come on John
Can't you see that we can't get rid of one without getting rid of the other
We gotta come down on both of them at the same time
In order for this whole thing to work for the people
[Verse 1]
Good things to those who wait
I don't involve wth those who make noise or indulge in hate
I pray to God, may Allah make my bars be great
So my job secure in case my broad is late
I got no time to slow it down and contemplate
n***as hungry for a change so Obama eight
Years, safe here never, Rayful
Kept it moving, reindeer weather
Crack babies turned crack sellers, still got nada
That happens when you black n***a with no product
Unathletic, it's sad though when it's no calling
So now you with the strapped n***as that want problems
No problem, and the hood ain't changed in years
And I'm optimistic at times for politics can't erase the fear
Pro-black is dead, self-loathing and sh**
Whole race feel misplaced since the Reagan Era
Where's Che Guevera ??
Hear cries from black moms for convisary
And the cops'll stop now, the town is different
See the blocks like black mamba, brown omitted
Little gentrification which ain't gender-specific
All us n***as is n***as, a few of n***as is b**hes
Dig it, cigar lit up, Obama got a longer tenure
You ain't gotta get involved unless that boy sizzle
[Bridge]
Yeah, one nation under God
Politics about the guap, I hate to break your heart
Just play my part
Stay low, pray to God
For all the hate shown, it made it hard to watch
Could be a race war, n***as on your mark
'Til somebody start
[Verse 2]
Conspiracy theorists in my lyrics
And feel like my sh** is somehow different albeit
It could be the image of my n***as
And your perception is ruining my vision, dig that
My president mulatto, a resident of many of serato
A penny for your thoughts, my retorts worth a dollar
Get off my f**ing George Carver
As far as little Bush, I'm thinking more little Rallo
Do you follow or did I lose you?
Ms. Dash, yeah, she bad, but the broad still clueless
Reese get her, not little
Witherspoon feeder 'til the seats fill up, get me
Paranormans on my feet n***a, jiggy
I, commander in chief, n***a, Bentley
Exercise of free speech, n***a, get me
But politics just ain't me, n***a, feel me?