Yeah...Yup!
Now I've seen obscene times before this hip-hop game, came
Like the cops that checked and left me a mate
To a system with gingerbread minutes I overbake
Put to work in the dirt for a buck and quarter a day
Chopping down trees for the next prison, dismayed
And separate us slaves with thirty dollars in pay
The jailer got a tailor and a F-250
Standing on them dirty acres, feeling god damn filthy
Minutes stand for years, s**as crawl for others
Understand the biz, I suffocate 'em with covers
Cause somebody gets paid, our livings are simply beginnings
Like slipping the sugar in some cracker's lemonade
Got my brother in Baghdad, hands crunching grenades
While we hustle like house n***as, trying to buy chains
Back-a**wards, for trying to buy change
I'mma walk through the Valley and rally through my pain
I'mma wear your confederate flag, and be a rebel
Burn this witch down, Gretel with heavy metal
Cancelled for pissing on the oaks and the stems
The size of youth, see it scenic, like they broke in my dreams
Weave it together, hoes need all the yarn you can swing
From filthy farms, we learned about types of alarms we can ring
Are you gon' listen? It seems the only sense you got is vision
And since we shared our senses now the cents is steady slipping
And since we stopped the youth from praying, sinfulness is livid
And the rich don't really give a f** 'cause they don't gotta live it
I see art living every day and never paid a visit
To y'all the hoods a museum and we just exhibits
The truth is just some digits, a means to an end
By any means, ????? gon' win
Since y'all won't listen, I'll use fists in place of my pens
So then maybe y'all should see the end
Dwell in the Valley of d**h, fell in the pits of coal
Into the mountaintop, where streets are paved in gold
But I know, only God can put out our flame, until then we gon' face our pain
But I know, only God can put out our flame, until then we gon' stake our claim...
On these Dirty Acres