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And I'm dancin' for these crackas while I call these **** crackas

And I'm dappin' up the rappers that's subservient to crackas

So what happens to the fact that we be stuck in a contraption

That's created by these crackas? Swear this music shit be backwards

Dancin' for these crackas while I call these **** crackas

And I'm dappin' up the rappers that's subservient to crackas

So what happens to the fact that we be stuck in a contraption

That's created by these crackas? Swear this music shit is—

Eggshells around the soap box, I used to complain

I'm one sentence from becomin' a no-name

Interactions with figures unconcerned over maintainin' my image

It's a minstrel show if you makin' music and steady winnin'

Pullin' me to the side and spewin' notions of empowerment

Takin' back what belongs to us, what's taken by establishment

He dives into descriptions I'm not too proud to repeat

And I'm conflicted 'cause despite it, I'm leanin' towards agreement

When it comes down to it all, who gon' take the bullet for me?

Who gon' take the shot for me? Not the **** with the contracts

Ones who will remain concealed by thinly veiled indoctrination

Cringed at some parts, but the rest of the speech contagious

Although we brothers in arms

I'll never understand how you could place all of the perils on a singular case

He said, "Wait until you go through the same"

It's hard to argue when those dotted lines provided by a Rothschild space

And I'm dancin' for these crackas while I call these **** crackas

And I'm dappin' up the rappers that's subservient to crackas

So what happens to the fact that we be stuck in a contraption

That's created by these crackas? Swear this music shit be backwards

Dancin' for these crackas while I call these **** crackas

And I'm dappin' up the rappers that's subservient to crackas

So what happens to the fact that we be stuck in a contraption

That's created by these crackas? Swear this music shit is—

Liberal rap fan kumbaya, holdin' hands, group singin' songs

What Is It Good For, Why Can't We Be Friends

My patience wearin' as thin as my capacity to constantly be sayin'

Rest in peace to Black women and men

And I'm yearnin' for this freedom, yet through the power of free will

I'm Twitter fingerin' every detail

The table tennis essence of attraction, I'll only be as good as my fans

My legacy determined by white hands, so I react

It's cool when I say it in my raps

But when I hop up on that app, then it's a method of attack

And all the **** that's too pussy to say it at the show

Lift they shirt and let the barrel of the hate pistol show

Where I'm from, **** die from the power of the tongue

And all of my heroes died with no red cent, not one

Guess it's somewhat a relief, I could never be Hollywood

'Cause every dollar that I earn is through the image of the hood

And I'm dancin' for these crackas while I call these **** crackas

And I'm dappin' up the rappers that's subservient to crackas

So what happens to the fact that we be stuck in a contraption

That's created by these crackas? Swear this music shit is—

Dancin' for these crackas while I call these **** crackas

And I'm dappin' up the rappers that's subservient to crackas

So what happens to the fact that we be stuck in a contraption

That's created by these crackas? Swear this music shit is—

Every path contains a consequence, an abandonment of livin'

I'm terrified, so I'm never too fond of the criticism

And while I share the gratitude that there's a group that wanna listen

I'm uneasy 'cause I know that they really not listenin'

They selective with the empathy, ridiculed during public breakdowns

Over the push, pull, fistful of wishful

Graces that I only can accept on the condition

That I package up and sell you folks the stories of unlivable conditions

Where I never seen a man cry till a man die

Where we cannot reprimand ties to them blue eyes

Where just merely reachin' twenty-five be a fuckin' prize

Where identity a crisis 'cause every day a disguise

In thy chosen life adventure, steadfastly pursue the cause

Neither moved by critic censure nor the multitude's applause

In thy chosen life adventure, steadfastly pursue the cause

Neither moved by critic censure nor the multitude's applause

Yeah, and I'm dancin' for these crackas while I call these **** crackas

And I'm dappin' up the rappers that's subservient to crackas

So what happens to the fact that we be stuck in a contraption

That's created by these crackas? Swear this music shit be backwards

Look, and I'm dancin' for these crackas while I call these ****—