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