Peace parishioners, onlookers, and listeners Visitors keepin' the consumption conspicuous Kids graduatin' from public schools and prisoners Underprivileged, aboriginal, indigenous Sent images of that family that got adopted The president of some nonprofits is out of pocket I heard the world ending is trendin', I tried to watch it I focused on sinnin' when winnin' was not an option The system we compete against is farm to table hand Pickin' them ingredients, civil disobedience Encyclopedia, definition of greediness Gluttony, please take heed of who you treaty with Me, Freddie, Flaco, and Shot never forgot though That Plymouth Rock landed on top of new Morocco Couldn't see who was firin' shots, the shooter got low And left a burnin' cross on the lawn just like a pothole I may not be here I'm feelin' like I might just leave before I start a fire or a fight They sayin the six bands are higher for the flight So I may be a hitman for hire for the night If you're figurin' this man's maniacal, you're right Bar codes on the wristband, it's not an oversight They intentionally expand, probably to extradite If you wanna play blind, just look straight into the light The puppeteers playin' you for spite And worldwide, what we're payin' is the price And that's life An education
Wooden leather buck talk China white with cut talk Kane train, a ho could never put me in a Slut Walk Education, trap-onomics, narcotic plug talk My hands was right back in the birds soon as they took the 'cuffs off Gotta feed your fuckin' wolves or they gon' feed on a nigga It's quite ironic how all this ice'll keep the heat on a nigga My cousin beat me for a pack and I put the beam on a nigga And I don't gotta finesse the plug because I Deebo that nigga Used to be peace and O's, drop am opp like pop's stinky load Last Friday hit by the pos, too dope in the commode Got off the stove and slowed my role, I'm in the mosque now But I'll still serve you a baked potato Bobby Johnson style You ain't lit, you litter like Trump Twitter feed Black mobster shit, I'm more Melvin Willams than Genevieve's Them fist fights had me swappin' blood with my enemies You ain't from no set if you wasn't gangbangin' in Little League I may not be here I'm feelin' like I might just leave before I start a fire or a fight A million fuckin' dollars a year just won't suffice Got a factor in that more bad habits and the cost of life Cost of life, uh We stay so high, that's why we can't come up My credit score is zero, I'm still pullin' Ranges up Them cash counters is counteractive The paper cuts gas by a pump like when Dominque used to lace some up I changed it up, I pray the streets don't take what's left of me Drugs for the free, soul sold separately Education