Tip the Scale The Roots (Ft. Dice Raw)

[Hook: Dice Raw]
Homicide or suicide, heads or tails
Some think life is a living hell
Some live life just living well
I live life tryna tip the scale my way
My way
My way
My way

[Verse 1: Black Thought]
Yo, I’m always early, I never take off
'Cause I've got a job: rob Peter to pay Paul
Now, I realize it’s the winner that takes all
Do what I gotta do because I can’t take loss
Picture me, living life as if I’m some animal
That consumes its own dreams, like I’m a cannibal
I won’t accept failure unless it’s mechanical
But still, the alcohol mixed with the botanical
I guess I be referred to the owners' manual full of loners
Full of all the homeless throwaways and the stoners
Soldiers of the streets with eighth-grade diplomas
And the world awaiting their shoulders as a bonus
Look, let he without sin live without sin
Until then, I’ll be doing dirty jobs like swampmen
Counting the faces of those that I might've been
It’s like living that life, but I won’t live that life again