>still rollin for seven wit that awful luck
>went from Samson-like to dealin on a Samsonite
>squealin to my thoughts on random nights
>two for five-oh handed em a tandem price
>antics recorded on a handheld device
>prices on they head like dandruff, helmets, and lice
>partially paid in property, paper and ice,
>and services, and recognition for eons
>we conditioned like the definition of freon
>purposes vague, we smirk at commercial sages
>with nothing to say about 2 million workin in cages
>and how a war on hip-hop, and not pop-standards
>seems similar to pre-holocaust propaganda...
>
>on a genre of music like PRACTICING for PEOPLE
>keep acting like we finally equal...
>
>I mean is hip-hop really the issue...was it ever?
>stop f--kin sleeping. Be wise, not clever...

yea.

_____________________________________

The cry I bring down from the hills
__________belongs to a girl still burning
__________inside my head. At daybreak

____________________she burns like a piece of paper. - YK