[Verse 1: Lonny ColdChain]
Some say he's Mentally demented
Other say he's the antiseptic To this Rap Profession
Both theories have been accepted
Either way he's universally rejected
My father should of used protection
But He ain't in the picture like the took it
Yo the way My future Looking
I'll by down in central booking by the time I'm 21
Probably have to resort to guns due to my lack of funds
And be out shooting like it's Duke there recruiting
And yeah I had dreams of hooping
But I ain't make the team coach told me hit the highway
I swear I been stuck In my ways
My mind and soul Trapped, I tried to free them
But these Demons is creeping, constantly feasting
On the mind of this genius so My thoughts is in they feces
I'm like the purpose thou should never defeat me
[Verse 2: Schama Noel]
I thought we'd change, silly me
Can you prosper without stealing things?
Can you get by without k**ing me?
Willingly mimicking Satan's gimmicks and energy
Hate and envy is filling streets
They are envious of the peeps
With the bently's & the nice jeeps
The gun inside your home don't make it an inner-peace
Y'all ignorant with it
Insidious hideous villainous syndicates injecting venomous sentiments to the innocent unprivileged little kids in them villages, no guidance or syllabus
To provide them with intellect
Only Tyrants that intersect
Hates the virus and it'll spread
Miley Cyrus, the internet & society k**s them dead
Your time on earth is limited
One kids plays grand theft auto
And another one lives in it
[Verse 3: Jay Diem]
Piss, smoke, drank, and reproduce
Blaze that kush, sip orange juice
That is all they think we do
Hit a ditch or a cell when the candles count at twenty two
Uh
Actions speak volumes and words speak chapters
So is that piece really achieving that peace that you after?
It feels like bullets move faster than prayers
Hands in unison we push them wishes up heavens stairs
I pray the screams of my people on Gods playlist
Word to Schama
And if he despise ugly, then God hate us
Or at least the situation we in
And again you strokin' your chin
Shaking your head as you talking down on my generation
Sorry if you ain't pushing progress, then you pushing the problem
Pushing music to pave the pavement into brighter tomorrows
Hey can I deepen your sorrows by giving you the truth?
How that Jumpman get us jumped man and leave us on the news
Dead you painted the pavement red just for a pair of shoes
Needed them sneakers to retreat back from them boys in blue
Quicker than they reach for you
*Gunshot*
Oh and RIP Mike Brown