A Message To The Feds, Sincerely, We The People

Get ready, get prepared

This is prophecy

God is with us

I walk the blocks like whatever god, my message to y'all feds

Who desperate to arrest us young, benevolent hard heads

Abrochrombie and Finch rockin', wrist glistenin' marksman

Hitchcock of hip-hop since big pop departed

The project logic is still saluted dead glocks spit

Pour some juice out for those in Manchester, Beaumont

Otisville, Newasberg, Fort Dicks, Fort Worth, Oakdale

Every fed jail where all my dawgs lurk

War hurts much to gain 'til the day we all say

"May your pain be champagne," then we all blaze away

At our enemies, may they die easily

Long as they perish forever's what freedom means to me

Blowin' greenery, growing eager to see evil things

Thrown away, zonin' gray, GT, Diesel jeans

Airs and Chucks, solitaires, stones with the rarest cuts

On some Pretty Tone shit, haircut looks airbrushed

And they're aware of us though

And we don't give a flyin' 747 fuck though

Stayin' on my hustle

A message to those who trapped us up

From federal guys who backed them up

We never will die, we black and tough

Lead in your eye, we strapped to bust

Half of us been locked up inside the beast

Look at the time we see

Brooklyn to Compton streets, Queens

Even the Congo needs dreams

Our bullets and triggers our enemies

Pullin' on innocent women and children

It wasn't no ghetto killers

Who mixed up the coke and put guns in our buildings

But I'm not gon' cry, and I'm not gon' stand, just watch you die

I'ma pass you a nine, I'ma grab your hand

Come on, let's ride

A message to those who killed the king

Who murdered the Christ, the same regime

What God has built, you never can break

What God has loved, you never can hate

Man makes rules and laws

You just a ruthless dog, your kennel is waiting

You devils will run back into the caves you came from

Whenever that day comes, 40 acres

Plantations, see every race won

Sincerely yours, Street's Disciple, Revelations