[Verse 1]
Look: revolutionary anonymous
Secret Service, wear my surveillance like I'm Obama's kids
16 shots and now they got me on the wiretap
Running the trunk with a blunt, yerrp, fire that
Ride in the track to Michigan, fightin' the drug case
District attorney lookin' at me with the screw face
Dude say, “Don't you know it's no hope with dope?”
But he ain't know how dope I was
Or I'd have probably caught a new case
My suitcase is packed with Alexander McQueen shit
I call Wang personally, I don't need a seamstress
Plead the fifth, plus I keep my chick in that Vera Wang
Rockin' so much Wang, you'd've thought it was the family name
Yeah, I know that I'm a target
So I drew it on myself, let the industry be the marksman
If you look close, you'd see that every bullet missed my frame
Them 16 shots around me not enough to count the names
From Tamir Rice, to Mike, to Eric Garner, Freddie Gray
Oscar Grant, Eric Gray—what more can I say?
Uh, fuckin' A, dance away the pain
Don't wanna hit the Quan, I do my dab to duck a stray
Pray for these shorties, they bankin' like West Side Story
But black on black crime is only one side of the story
You got them bodies hanging from trees in our recent past
You forget that this the type of shit that they teach in class
Hold on—
Look: revolutionary anonymous
Secret Service, wear my surveillance like I'm Obama's kids
16 shots and now they got me on the wiretap
Running the trunk with a blunt, yerrp, fire that
Ride in the track to Michigan, fightin' the drug case
District attorney lookin' at me with the screw face
Dude say, “Don't you know it's no hope with dope?”
But he ain't know how dope I was
Or I'd have probably caught a new case
My suitcase is packed with Alexander McQueen shit
I call Wang personally, I don't need a seamstress
Plead the fifth, plus I keep my chick in that Vera Wang
Rockin' so much Wang, you'd've thought it was the family name
Yeah, I know that I'm a target
So I drew it on myself, let the industry be the marksman
If you look close, you'd see that every bullet missed my frame
Them 16 shots around me not enough to count the names
From Tamir Rice, to Mike, to Eric Garner, Freddie Gray
Oscar Grant, Eric Gray—what more can I say?
Uh, fuckin' A, dance away the pain
Don't wanna hit the Quan, I do my dab to duck a stray
Pray for these shorties, they bankin' like West Side Story
But black on black crime is only one side of the story
You got them bodies hanging from trees in our recent past
You forget that this the type of shit that they teach in class
Hold on—
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