| I’m into Chi-Town heroes like Fred Hampton
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| And neighborhood Deebo’s, the rebirth of D. Rose
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| The eye of a eagle, I keep on the people
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| Some gettin repo’d, some need clothes
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| Since I was a shorty, I had vision like Coleco
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| Opportunity knocks, I’m lookin' through the peephole
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| In my daughters laugh, I can hear a deep soul
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| Eve was my first love, now I’m on the sequel
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| Hearts stay open, in you I keep gold
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| Crossroads of beast mode to peace mode
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| Southeast code, Avalon to Ekersall
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| Too much on my back for me to set it off
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| From the «offset», I just wanna be, be, be
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| Like Cardi or 'yonce or Harry Belefonte
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| Whenever I eat, my peeps get the same entree like they my fiancee
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| It ain’t easy when niggas like, «Feed me»
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| When I ain’t got it, they don’t believe me
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| Read me truth, lead me, truth
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| The birth of freedom can’t be induced
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| We reproduce so our fruits can see the fruits
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| A harvest for the world that the mustard seed produce
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| Faith walk my thoughts through yellow tape and chalk
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| Tigerstyle, gettin' back on course
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| Well, well, well, well, well, well, well
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| They want us to be in jail
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| But you know we’ll never fail
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| We goin' up, yeah, we goin' up
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| No, this soul is not for sale
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| I won’t put that on them scales
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| And I know we will prevail
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| Man, I’m struggling
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| Man I be struggling
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| Till something inside tell me to come again
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| Like when you fuckin' and you get another wind
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| I’m from the City of Wind, that’s another win
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| Take the L, Green line, Red line, get your paper
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| Headlines tryna feed your fam, get fed time
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| It happens, trappin' and rappin' got us backed in
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| To a corner, it’s normal for black men
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| The Marcus Garvey, Bob Marley re-enactment
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| Savion with a beard, yo, I’m tapped in
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| Stretch money and make it do a back bend
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| Frontin' niggas try to front you on the back end
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| Live from the Chi where guns be clappin'
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| Poetic justice with raps, I’m snappin'
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| Meditating to Kamasi song, ask him
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| Robbin' and baskin', our heroes ain’t masked men
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| When I do it, Com, do it with passion
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| My compassion for brown and black skin
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| In the hood I used to backspin
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| Now I’m spendin' back in the hood when I’m back, yo, what’s good?
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| If you stand up, then that’s understood
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| I tell them black sheep, «Don't react to them wolves»
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| Crib Love, our heroes are on murals
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| So five year olds get told in their ear lobe that they can let fear go
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| Souls clear the way, let these palms peel away your pirouette
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| In the silhouette of blackness and cigarettes
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| Well, well, well, well, well, well, well
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| They want us to be in jail
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| But you know we’ll never fail
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| We goin' up, yeah, we goin' up
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| No, this soul is not for sale
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| I won’t put that on them scales
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| And I know we will prevail |