I'm a street G but still son I write it deeply
When I zone like Phillis Wheatley, that's how you greet me
Dead poets give me that motive, if they don't promote it
Stay devoted, stay focused 'til there's plagues and locust
'Cause you can't buy your soul back from Lucifer's office
Tell Bush we about to make the hood shoot at his office
His tradition in skull and bones sleepin' in coffins
Like they wanna see me on crosses
German Pope sold canned abortions
I slow it down, shit I break it in portions
You heard right, I ain't speakin' in Martian
I'm hood but I'm conscious, today that's nonsense
I do this for the slaves and the brains they washin'
Who trained with the marksmen who slept on the park bench
We hunt men comin' out their apartment
'Cause too much money got him thinkin' he Clark Kent
Get treated like you dark skin, as soon as you as it off spin
Got patriotic ho's and America's yard pimps
Rhythm N Poetry is what it's supposed to be
Where niggas get money and don't live it culturally
Rhythm N Poetry is what it's supposed to be
Where niggas get money and don't live it culturally