Lyrics
When its all peace it never totally cease so I’ve been preparing to drop mine on the land thicker than water, hostile blood past from father to father to son, when your under the gun, when your in the line of fire are you gonna stand your ground or run, truth or dare, scare of the double zero, put it in perspective, come through and wreck sh** for the mentally unfit, take it to the next level, the record skips, crack them skulls from internal pressure, how can I weigh your strain, how can I measure, now I don’t things well ever be the same, when it rains it pour, paint red crucifixes upon your door
I don’t believe, I don’t believe, I don’t believe that you want more
Mother……
I don’t believe, I don’t believe, I don’t believe that you want mooooore
Indigenous struggle
IN MY BLOOD that’s what I feel motha…
IN MY BLOOD I want the hollowbacked to holla back,
dirty in my roots, I’m a filthy ass skin motha….. holla back holla back
I’m stressing reservation blues, unwritten rules, code of the beat, represent the trues, kind of intimate when I let loose grit, hella fit, bump my sh** , riders never quit and if you ever did, I don’t know what type of sh** your on, troubled waters, rather this desert well swallow you alive, lost causes fighting quicksand, before I become engulfed my mic is held tight in my right hand, sticking out the ground, rumble and stomp, noise from the core, its that earthquake sound, echo like thunder, just another summer, my brothers are pulling cards, the heat must play a major role in weighing the odds or decide to fold, but mostly we ride for all or nothing, my brothers got heart, cause he looked me square in my eyes and said I don’t know what your talking about, straight game,
CHORUS
They have you mother….. scared straight. Have them walking the plank, walk the line, 15 brothers on each side. Ain’t afraid of time, cause that’s all we got. Block them in concrete to rot in peace. Can you sleep. I know your whereabouts seven days a week. Went out in a blaze of glory. Another story to tell the children. They left him handicapped and said why they just didn’t kill him. Because slow pain is most thrilling. They’re just chilling on a five. He can’t walk, but better thank god he’s still alive. They ask how a brother goes from bad to worse. I got nothing to lose, survival comes first. Statistically I’m suppose to be locked up, have seven girls knocked up. I’m going down chalked up in the pavement. Outlined in the reservations arid dirt. You don’t owe me nothing. I’ve gotta ask myself, what’s my soul worth. Some significance before my rebirth.
