[Hook: Nas]
When we start... the revolution... all they'll probably do is squeal
But chill
[Verse 1: Asheru]
It's been a long time coming, had a long rhyme running
Through my head all morning since the early crack of dawning
Seeing omens as a warning, sticking out like an awning
In places they don't belong, my premonition is strong
This shit don't feel right when bammers know better
But do the opposite they're claiming they're go-getters
But what does profit get but mo' money, mo' problems
We break bread as if we have pockets with no bottoms
Can't be further from the truth like words spit in the booth
Mixed down, packaged and shipped then marketed to the youth
But the real disconnect is when shit goes unchecked
Words become acts and kids lack respect
Society points the finger, artists collect the check
Any attempts to balance things out, we reject
We celebrate death like we know the end is near
I can't tell if it's fear or if we truly don't care
But me, I'm for the living, live the art that I'm giving
Give my heart; that's a given, do my part cause I'm driven
From the start I been hittin' with anti-nonsense
And critics be so quick to label it conscious
OK, you got me, even though it's not me, completely
I see you want to box me neatly
Treat me as if what I'm saying ain't really real
When we start... the revolution... all they'll probably do is squeal
But chill
[Verse 1: Asheru]
It's been a long time coming, had a long rhyme running
Through my head all morning since the early crack of dawning
Seeing omens as a warning, sticking out like an awning
In places they don't belong, my premonition is strong
This shit don't feel right when bammers know better
But do the opposite they're claiming they're go-getters
But what does profit get but mo' money, mo' problems
We break bread as if we have pockets with no bottoms
Can't be further from the truth like words spit in the booth
Mixed down, packaged and shipped then marketed to the youth
But the real disconnect is when shit goes unchecked
Words become acts and kids lack respect
Society points the finger, artists collect the check
Any attempts to balance things out, we reject
We celebrate death like we know the end is near
I can't tell if it's fear or if we truly don't care
But me, I'm for the living, live the art that I'm giving
Give my heart; that's a given, do my part cause I'm driven
From the start I been hittin' with anti-nonsense
And critics be so quick to label it conscious
OK, you got me, even though it's not me, completely
I see you want to box me neatly
Treat me as if what I'm saying ain't really real
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