Talib Kweli - The Struggle Continues lyrics

[Talib Kweli] Yeah... yeah... let's take it there You know what the struggle is? (What is it?) It's beautiful! (Oh yeah, c'mon) It's not an oxymoron, means the same thing Beautiful! Like the pa**ion of s** when you don't have to get protection And the seed is fertilized it's an immaculate conception And it grow into a fetus crying like priests having confession Baby coming out the womb packing and blasting a weapon For the struggle to show, I let my scars keloid and bubble Keep it popping all you toys[?] is in trouble I'm all city, the benjis is all gritty, my pennies is all pretty If you believe in making change and progress then walk with me Let me show you a bigger picture (Yeah) Spit kicker never spit the poison like the liquor That's filling up your n***a liver It's more like the herbal medicine - purple lettuce and orange hair I inhale yesterday's breath and blow out tomorrow's air I'm taking the throne Instead of creating a poem I'm making a song These n***as is happy with just making a clone So my rhymes turn these wack emcee's faces into stone Like they just saw Medusa with them snakes in the dome... Rashid [Common] One man rises another falls To discover all is one and one is all I come to call like Jericho with the trumpets It's wild in the hundreds Gramps in the choir hummin' The Lord soon cometh From blow some grow, many stay stunted Talks with the shorties knowing, I learn from it Keep the dumb sh** from my circumference I run with n***as that want it and done it The hunted and blunted (It's beautiful!) L said it gotta come from the stomach To me the stomach is the voice of the Lord The revolutionary people's choice the award Seeing souls move forward Goals move toward new homes and new floors For us to rise to, in the attic taping up my bible Thinking how can I apply it to survival? The un-American idol, seeing vital signs of the times I put it in my rhymes it's the beautiful struggle [David Banner] I came here to curse the states, like "f** You!" I k** for my sons with guns, like I'm John Q Now get celled[?] in hell, the Buddha-blessed smoke Endorsed by the DLs, Crips, Bloods and Folks If I have to, I'll throw myself on the cross My souls lost, f** it man, Jesus paid the cost So I guess I'll tell a racist cracker go and lay it down If I die, I die high, blowing on a pound If you die, you die twice, a neck full of ice I'm hellbound on trying to save black kids' life But my Tribe, left a n***a on a Quest like Phife or Jerobi White b**hes scream like Kobe But you would never know me or what I went through That's why I'm quick to say "s** a dick, b**h, and f** you!" And I'ma tell the white kids the truth: They dads raped mine, now what the f** they gon' do?! (YEAH)