The good... the evil are fighting in your mind Lose the fear in choosing what's right or wrong Facing the inner fear makes you... stronger Trying to kill the black
tomorrow expect apologies You probably panic, stranded in search of a better planet Realism hard to understand, we stand slanted and still stranded, merciless thieves stole the best of me I pray to black
we feel Black Jesus! Searchin for Black Jesus It's hard, it's hard We need help out here So we searchins for Black Jesus It's like a Saint, that we
never said what up That s**t critical, dispicable, unforgiveable I too like Hot ?? Your own fan won't remember you Thuggin but we still spriutual, clear lyrical I'm like the f**kin Deff Squad
but them can't gun store When a batty bwoy do it from the mob Ahh, pull up your pants then you screw an left squad Look around, look around, punk police
how we do. KnowhatI'msayin? Squad in effect, YG'z in effect. Now you know a nigga like me gotta represent) Verse Four: Live Squad Once again, back to
KILL ME! Hey there young nigga, what you smokin on? Mad at the world cause you came from a broken home Love to squad plus your mob is sick A bunch of
Stick up, stick up, stick up kids... still don't nothin move but the money" -- Rakim] Verse One: Live Squad Strugglin, jugglin, got it to the black
on the concrete High-top fade, with no need for a blonde streak Now let me chill, it's a sign of maturity And I would never steal a chant from a Black
my gun rip through lungs and tear through tissue while I'm out for the ends, you out for a rep thats the same thing that have yo mama in a black dress see me in a black
to a beat, I'm workin with God While you riffin through the newspaper, circlin jobs The way I operate make surgeons applaud I'll murder your squad, you
forever hold our peace A-O-T-P shook rappers call police [scratching] I'm savage, I'm-I'm savage I write rhymes in pitch blackness [x2] [Verse 2: Esoteric
and down, Word to God, (Motherfuckers) It's Killarm run up on your whole squad Pick up the LP, One love to my peoples, (Word up) Black guerrilla fam,
So you just graduated from high school, and Daddy bought you a brand new Trans Am, it's the really cool black one with the big bird painted on the hood
team ooh, I love all advertisements though accused by robot news casters who capture and pollute spoon fed hazardous fog to joy luck catholic squad please
