[Chorus]

Everybody dies¬—
tombstone with your name in the cement.
Everybody grinds—
gotta hustle, gotta pay rent.
At the end of my time
I hope I’ve loved to the fullest.
I know my people cry.
I’m scared, I’m scared tell my last breath.

[Verse One]

Politicians corporate thuggin but you already know though.
Bunch a dollars in a bucket
bunch of laws on the budget
when the stock market plummet
rich man get richer
while the poor man get mo’ po’. It’s all about control.
What’s a cop to a crip
to a Fox with a limp
and a Wolf with a crooked grin
lookin like a judge with gaval?

What’s a gangsters to a rebel?
9mm and pebble?
Che Guevera to a Cerpico?
Swat Team to a Gustapo?
Batteram to a tank?
Tank to the stash to a bank
to the crank to the cocaine to the crack in the pipe to gas in your tank?
What’s you think-think?
About the blood on your money whoa?
‘Bout the blood in your I phone?
Do you smell something funny?
Something crude?
Cuz oil burn like money do
in your pocket, and your pocket been stitched by a poor kid in grammar school?

[Chorus]

Everybody dies¬—
tombstone with your name in the cement.
Everybody grinds—
gotta hustle, gotta pay rent.
At the end of my time
I hope I’ve loved to the fullest.
I know my people cry.
I’m scared, I’m scared tell my last breath.

[Break]

John Oliver speeks on Civil Forfeiture…speech.

[Verse Two]

Well then it seem to me that the police operate like a gang of police,
and gang mentality still be gang mentality on any side of the street.
So I see lots of Po Po’s like baby mafiosos
seizing cash for the gang cuz he say so,
cuz he’s always been down for the gang and the gang
run the pay roll, or the precinct or euro or the world.
And soldiers roll and pledge to bleed for those who pledge to bleed for them.
Word to Restrepo.
PD like a GD in the Deparment of Disciples
so their OG’s Jump em’ in, Swear em’ in different sides the coin, same shit
when they swear their blood oaths:

like, “If you ride for me, I’ll ride for you.
If you die for me, I’ll die for you.”

[Chorus]

Everybody dies¬—
tombstone with your name in the cement.
Everybody grinds—
gotta hustle, gotta pay rent.
At the end of my time
I hope I’ve loved to the fullest.
I know my people cry.
I’m scared, I’m scared tell my last breath.

[Verse Three]

You can’t imagine the hate mail in the inbox of black feminist website
“I’ll cut you b****, I’ll rape you n***** I’ll take your life”
You can’t imagine cuz you never tried.
Main stream America speakin the lie of a post racial society.
Acting color blind.
This passive ideology helps gunmen load clips and take more life.
I’m singing black lives matter while I kiss a good cop
on his forehead and thank his wife.
Truth is treason in a regime of lies.
I’m a Rebel for the truth don’t call it suicide
Suicides leakin out your tail pipe.
Look at the time Polluted oceans and polluted minds
Look at the time Polluted oceans and polluted minds

[Chorus]

Everybody dies¬—
tombstone with your name in the cement.
Everybody grinds—
gotta hustle, gotta pay rent.
At the end of my time
I hope I’ve loved to the fullest.
I know my people cry.
I’m scared, I’m scared tell my last breath.


[Verse Four]

Lookin’ at a hotel room like a purgatory for the lonely hearted.
I’ve seen so many of these rooms, ironically I know that I’ve barley started.

Used to be a kid watchin’ bumble bee’s land on the cup of a rose,
now they hand me a cup of patron cuz I gotta little buz
and who would of known?

That when this country boy got grown
he’d be run and rippin through cities on microphone’s?

wordsmith to a T that’s me with my heart on my sleeve,
Alchemy of my soul.

Speak until the blood leak from my throat.
Who the fuck are you really if you’ve never had your heart broke.

I don’t know if I die quick or die slow.
Knife wound, car crash, heart attack, who knows?

Just a man with the truth in my hand
aimed like a rock at a tank
tryin to crack the paint, whoa.

Here I am
At the mercy of the world full of dirty tricks
And murderous whoas

in the center screamin let me go
Strip my soul, let me roam through
through stages and places and head phones—
just fragments of my soul vibrating endlessly even when my body is no more.

[Outro]

I ain’t scared no more. I ain’t scared no more.
Let me go. Let me, let me go. I ain’t scared no more.
I ain’t scared no more. Let me go.