[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?