Attack was very rapid
It started as hit and run a military tactic
Hit once & retreat, on a mission to defeat
A big force, it succeeded but now innocent ones bleed
And kids take arm to the streets
U already know the outcome
U may walk around & get hit by a random
Bullet, a true definition of a dead man walking
In a place where u wont hear dogs barking
Going that direction, u better know how to duck
Snipers play a game called "go-find-your-luck"
Up on a bridge of Anzaloti
Aiming at ya head whenever they pop it (blauuw!)
Shoot u dead first then see what u get in ya pocket
Nobody keeps their cruelty in check
Just live by the day, not knowing what to expect
Chorus 2x
My story is realer check out my background
Hey! What u rap about?
A true warchild, it aint in me to back down
Naah! Nothing to brag about
Verse2
Not once in a blue moon
But every afternoon I used to tune
Into a special English of the VOA trying to be semanticist
Now Im the soloist
AVO thats how I abbreviate
My name, I came with the truth activate
Your brain cells in order to elevate your mind,
Dont be captivated by the smile
I led life more corrupt than FBI files
So called emcee's grew up in peace, smoke trees
Then talk about guns & what the fantasize
Telling us they wise & nice
But I never feel it not at any price
This ain't no tough talk but I seen 'em all
I seen hard ones turn into a soft
When the sound of a bomb goes off
I witnessed highest degree of hatred
Seen cats trying to make it (what!)
Chorus 2x
Verse 3
Just tell it how it is, no regrets no justification
Im feeling like a leader betrayed by his own nation
Propaganda is just another type of war
If u dont know what u fight for
U aint get the right to talk about struggle
I aint trying to knock ya hustle
This is real talk, never meant to pour a scorn
On ya action, I see rappers going to a war torn
Country, how can they relate to u? U never seen
A war, I get it
U just nothing but a program on the screen
If these labels get ya back, u can play any role
Yeah u can keep what u stole
But once u get caught they cut ya hand off
My roots go back to the land of (where?)
Poets: S-o-m-a-l-i-a!