If

[Hook 2x]

It wasn't for this, it wasn't for that

Ohh, best believe a better world

[Talib Kweli--talking over chorus]

Yes, ladies and gentleman

You do have Kenn Starr in the house, Asheru

Talib Kweli...

[Kenn Starr]

If it wasn't for the way that we live

Too many single mothers raisin' our kids

Too many brothers caged in the Pen

Engagin' a bid, enslaved by the pigs

If it wasn't for crooked cops that pop shots grazin' our wig

That sends slugs reckless, plus these thugs with a death wish

That take your life for the ice that flood in your necklace

The blood of the helpless and innocent (and innocent)

If it wasn't for so-called friends that turned Benedict

Snakes in the grass and crabs in the lake

Cuz I'm black and its late, getting' harassed by the Jake

Blasted with eight times five, plus one

Lethal deposit, reach for your wallet, they bust guns

That's why I trust none and I keep to myself

I can't blame cats that pack heat in they belt

And quick to clap, never givin' in

If it wasn't for this and that

It'd be a better world that we livin' in

Hook 2x

[Asheru]

If it wasn't for a mic check I wouldn't have a check at all

Nowadays you can't live that way

The markets way too unstable, there's too many pimp labels

Playing rappers like a ho, manhandlin' the dough

Demandin' them to go on a track to bring the loot back

Now you playing for the team and the captain, that's cream

You got the dream to push a mean two-seater

With a diva riding shotgun, just to say you got one

You make the songs, but labels only want the hot ones

Send you back to the drawing board, until you got some

Now I guess we got problems

Even your all-creative mind ain't enough to try and solve 'em

The doors revolvin', younger cats are starvin'

They want it more than you, might go to war with you

To reap the heap of dough that's at the end of the rainbow

You can't be mad, man, that's how the game go

Hook 2x

[Talib Kweli] (talking)

(yeah, c'mon!)

(yea, here we go, yeah!)

I'm about to show you what this black power is

Red, black, and green on the wrist how I live

In the cold world where we bust off the black llamas

Every winter where we lose more son to black mommas

If hip-hop got seasons, right now its spring

Like when everybody selling death, "kiss the ring" (yeah!)

You know how it goes, people change color like autumn

Kids learn through experience, fuck what a teacher taught 'em

Puff a relief for boredom; rough will release a quarter

And the parents who paid enough attention to at least ignore 'em

Blowing up mics, throwin' up signs

To help niggaz you confusin' it with cryin'

The winners write the history books

Mystery looks past prisoners of war, that's what my listeners are for

Turn the tide on this fuckery, ride on this fuckery

You shoulda never let me in the industry, you're stuck with me

Hook 3x