[Verse 1: PHZ-Sicks] The smell of pissy hallways shouldn't feel like home Shouldn't be the norm of images of guns pointed to my dome Can I walk down the streets without n***as barking at me? (Woof) Can I walk down the streets without cops grabbing at me? Pissed, with my hand on my dick Even dressed collegiate, I still get stopped and frisked Ain't this a b**h? From NY to Chicago The bullets sing in different octaves but they still ring hollow Continued constant sorrows, unrealized gone tomorrows In the Cleveland Show, you might not make it to the age of Rallo They say bullet doesn't have a name First and middle Win 9 millimeter, Luger was his last name How many bullets in Sandy Hook does it take? To change a young black or brown kid in DC's fate It was a tragedy, not saying that I told you so But if we were, real about these guns laws could've avoided this some time ago Oh [Hook: PHZ-Sicks] I'm singing my Country, 'Tis of Thee But they telling me to get down on my knees I say we need a better education system They tell me that we need to build more prison Land of the Free, home of the Brave But it's the home of the paid, land built by the slaves If you live by the gun, you die by the same thing And you wonder why sh** never change It's the constant [Verse 2: PHZ-Sicks] Now pray tell the details of a black male and cracks sales Although we mean well it does make our art sale Whether it's gangster, whether it's conscious We use to that black hell to launch our rocket Onto the Billboard, media calls us lucky At least on Thanksgiving, we handing out turkeys Our communities are still f**ed up but at least we lucked up Said your city in our songs, now least you feel pumped up Parties in Hamptons, rested in my mansion f**ing white b**hes on a bed made of lambskin Jogging in the park, got stop by random Cops asking me, which house I ran from My ID with an address but still I get undressed By a racist, where the f** is the serve and the protect They insisted I resisted, arm twisted, thought I left that Back in the hood but my skin stills remains black [Hook] [Verse 3: Rob Regal] They say it never change, I gotta agree with it Spreading d**h with no clear sender, BCC'in it Maryland the home, I'm speaking for PG with this Next to the District, the dealers keep the D in it Never learned to pull out unless they talking weaponry One look'll say it all like they mastered telepathy Sheesh! My n***a, get you a conscience Homicide far from normal, but trust me, it's constant Boston dealing with bombings, I'd rather disarm them Show my people the good life like Yeezy did Common Right? But maybe I'm just dreaming too big Maybe my message missing the picture like avi's and sigs Life, dramatic as it is, they ain't give us a script God gave me a plan and a voice and he told me to rip That's what it is, so I'm going over these beats And pray my bars can play the arms to get you all in my reach to end the constant [Hook]