Another ***** ******* believe he can in rap,
Writing as convoluting lines as rivers on the map,
About white oppression, ebony *******,
Or is it vice versa? Oh, and don’t forget the cursing;
But I can’t, I simply can’t stand for my land
Or fend for myself
Without a hand of a true friend
Imma man, without a gun in his hand
So when they knocking at my door
all I can is scream « **** »;
So everything what’s left to me is to blend
Till my ascension, where will be no aggravation,
Hesitation, ‘bout whether it’s right or wrong to be against your nation
If you see her burning to the smold’ring ashes?