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truth (sikk sac) - sevin lyrics

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check check
i can get it i just ain’t spit it in a sec so i lost a little tempo
man you better be practicing n-gg-
check
be in the booth be like “don’t let the…” d-mn

haha

yeah..

my whole city is a cemetery, brains buried in smeared guts
the proof of my sorrow ain’t carried in tear ducts
i don’t fear much
they be bucking here
i slept in my bucket here and crept like a buccaneer
i came from beneath dust just like an arabian tomb
the glow like the mesopotamian moon
i ain’t playing
i learned to bang in the womb
ya still got they baby teeth mane
beef’s what i mainly consume
i washed it down with the deuce double dash
lights out with the sawed off woop double blast
hoping to feed lord
my soul will be restored before i leave my enemies
deported to the morgue
i’m so famished won’t manage to last
without encouragement for nourishment the cannon will blast
get ready for the famine are you planning to crash
like high speed with eyes squeezing and both hands on the gas
when i sleep i see a man in a mask
that’s why i feel i gotta keep enough heat
to turn sand into gl-ss
no weapon formed against me prospers
but i’m overly cautious h-t my knee i go to war at these altars
you could tell he’s a soldier even strolling he marches
wit’ an army of hogmob warriors and archers
born in the storm where we poor and they starve us
and every part of my heart grew as cold as the arctics
from an era where my state’s death toll is the largest
and i’m still losing them to the tomb and multiple charges
he didn’t know that the cats he serving
had been plotting on his stacks since he last observed ’em
you could almost hear his casket urging “relax!”
when they swerve through the trap in the black suburban
this when a normal day becomes the active version
hks lift your face like a plastic surgeon
he ain’t get to let his plastic serve him
it’s too late for that
no headstone dog we ain’t got the cake for that
no high-priced coffin with the br-ss on the crown
just a plot with fresh gr-ss and a plaque on the ground
the angel of death’s here
came for his reckoning
i pray to the savior from the manger in bethlehem
cause they betrayed him on the creep and tied him
then he still turned his cheek when they beat and tried him
his n-gg- said
“jesus if it’s beef we riding”
then his closest homie pete denied him
you ain’t read about him?
he even seen the faces of the peeps that he healed in the street
and the people crowding
now the greeks and the hebrews doubt him
desire him to die they hung him high
put the thieves beside him
he still kept the peace inside him
lifts his head to the sky and said
“they dead lord… please revive them.”

born 5-2-85
and more important breath life
jesus christ gave breath
the game of chess explains it best
j mobbed with his disciples
i mob with hoes and rifles
highly insured like geico
duckin’ the snakes and geckos
ignoring the devil’s heckle
tellin’ the flesh to let go
put gin n’ juice in my temple
earnin’ these street credentials
implicit to devil’s sinful
darkness was my life
like luke i’m bound to fight
skywalk for jesus christ
hogmob like hearts throb
and march on in keggas
activate like raiders
play the game like paintin
transparent like fadin’
you talk while we charadin’
filled with your activist
descended from blackened fists
no colored lines in this
dislodged we must dismiss
so truth can rise again
dear lord give me some strength
and it’s ??? or be pimped
and your line of scrimmage
strictly in your remiss
imagine that like they were livin’
after god’s own heart

i’m way too old for this happy rappin’
and infectin the business with sk!lls that upend kids
all rudementrics fused of chicken and biscuits
wishin’ for the famines endin’
they pretendin’
i’m sayin are you payin attention
to what’s being said to you through quell
or do you understand i’m trying to witness to the selected few
who’s doomed in the trenches
where the hood clinches with a grip that’ll
twist heads off hinges
and i’m sure and you’re hearing it
but are you feelin’ it
are you listening to the physical evidence like the glove didn’t fit
i’ve seen men hit with big sh-t
for less than a buck 10 and funding their own children
i guess they gave him two for flinchin
he’s on a long pilgrimage
a spiritual mission
that expands his own lineage
and lord the stress burns deep in my thin skin
third degree burns appear and tears evaporate again
when they hit the atmosphere my friend
they still applaudin’ and clappin’
you know better than i do
this is more than just rappin
and ain’t no motion picture
god this is more than just actin’
and i ain’t out here trying to pull off a fast one
when my dough comes slow as mol-sses
and i’m still on the block
quarterbackin in a backpack, hat and some gl-sses
you know the uniforms all on my back
tell shorty for me
i ain’t after that thing that separates her legs from her back
and i’m viewed as being a n-gg-
cuz i’m poor and i’m black
and my pants don’t cover my crack
and i’m depending on you and my n-gg-s to get my back
father protect me cuz i’m going right back

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