T.m. (message To Killa Black)

"What price are you talking about, sir?"

[Malcolm X:] "The price of freedom is death"

Yo,

Only one sperm cell survives out of millions

Hustlers strive, the trades we learn by the buildings

In Hell's Kitchen - projects burn the children

Some get locked, lay in a box with no feeling

On my back staring at the ceiling, through dealing

Sweat dripping, hands together, my knees kneeling

Where was God when my pops fell to his death bleeding?

Was he trapped like Martin in his last cry for freedom?

And when I die, will my soul ride 'til I see him?

Never thought that I'd be overseas with Koreans

Rockin' a vest, pushin' bulletproof Europeans

In hot wheels - spit shit the crowd could feel

Spendin' chips on Hilal meals, ripping foul steel

While snakes come behind me to lace my spine

Say grace and at the same time, embrace my nine

We ball like ghetto children in life tournaments

Lusting for platinum chains and ice ornaments

I strive for what I live for - cut from an iller cloth

Plot like Hyman Roth in a loft

Stack chips before the new millennium curse

U-N-I-Verse, we true and living heirs to the universe

Rep' the 41st 'til my heart burst

Ready to die - 'til we seen Biggie ride in a hearse

Yo, your comrades moving like wolves in sheep's clothing

Friends are foes - hanging niggas 'cause they holding

[Chorus]

If you can't hold on, hang on - we can make it

Whatever they don't give us in this life, we can take it

Joy and pain - through the sunshine and rain

As the world turns, life remains the same

We escaped through the flames in this game we bled

Pour some liquor on the ground - God bless the dead

To my niggas still living, yo - hold your head

To my niggas still living, yo - hold your head

Yo, yo, yo,

I blow shots from a drop rover 'til the world's over

Seeing Jehovah through the eyes of a young soldier

Black Moses - literature in pure dosage

From a landscape of Kuwait - Jakes and vultures

Too many of us lose focus

Due to the fact that we're all just a bunch of soldiers

Foul cultures

Funny how the streets mold us

Allah told us - in the cages where they hold us, it's much colder

Hear the pain through my words as I [?] in song

See, the world's rotten like the veins in my father's arm

Used to be a follower of Islam - niggas is sheist'

Study my life - living in these days is trife

Heaven and Hell, a thin line between paradise

Rather than lose, some choose to take they own life

Said a prayer for him, hoping that his soul was blessed

'Cause my hands couldn't cover all the holes in his chest

What they do? Turn around and blame me for his death

I'm like Malcolm X resurrected in a Lex', holding two tecs

Holograms in the headrest, yo

Shoulda knew what love is, before he learned what a thug is

Now we leave the seeds to be raised by their mothers

I've seen the 'hood raise brothers

Kill too many of us

A thin line between the freedom and the foul judges

In the streets, where them snake niggas hold grudges

[Chorus]