[Killer Mike:] Cops in the ghetto they move like the Gestapo Drunk off their power and greed, they often hostile My little homie talked shit back and they beat him bad That boy in the hospital now he's lookin' bad And I'm with his mom and dad, we lookin' sad My own mama called me, said "Baby, I'm just glad They ain't put they hands on my child and kill his ass Please don't rap about that shit 'fore they murder your black ass" It's drones over Brooklyn, you blink you could get took-en And now you're understanding the definition of "Crooklyn" Pigs on parade but bacon fryin' and cookin' Cause kids tired of dying and walkin' round like they shook-en Cause we smoke sour to deal with the paranoia That they charge by the hour, can't hire the Jewish lawyer Cause if you ain't Jigga or Puff, you doing time And even then, you might get ten, word to Shyne
[El-P:] You don't wanna look into my big crystal balls, suck the future We'll moonwalk through flames with a brain on stupid Camouflage toughies'll touch your tufts roughly Fluff your flat permanent, lump you up ruthless Then laugh while you're humming the tune of bruised movements That took a few too many tabs to prove lucid (Everything compute?) Nah the truth is too tangled And even a satellite sees at one angle Burners radiate smoke 'til all's motionless Hope? Nah, ha ha, slow down with the jokin' shit So inappropriate, right behind your ears is a what? Look: ta-dah! The sound of your hopelessness I can feel it too, from the ground rising up in us Right above the clouds there's a shroud there to smother us Make a sane man walk around with a blunderbuss Peel another round, make a sound that is thunderous