valley of death

Yeah...Yup!
Now Ive seen obscene times before this hip-hop game, came
Like the cops that checked and left me a mate,
To a system with gingerbread minutes I overbake,
Put to work in the dirt for a buck and quarter a day.
Chopping down trees for the next prison, dismayed
And separate us slaves with thirty dollars in pay.
The jailer got a tailor and a F-250,
Standing on them dirty acres, feeling god damn filthy.
Minutes stand for years, suckas crawl for others
Understand the biz, I suffocate em with covers
Cause somebody gets paid, our livings are simply beginnings
Like slipping the sugar in some crackers lemonade.
Got my brother in Baghdad, hands crunching grenades,
While we hustle like house *****s, trying to buy chains.
Back-asswards, for trying to buy change,
Imma walk through the Valley and rally through my pain
Imma wear your confederate flag, and be a rebel,
Burn this witch down, Gretel with heavy metal.
Cancelled for pissing on the oaks and the stems,
The size of youth, see it scenic, like they broke in my dreams,
Weave it together, hoes need all the yarn you can swing ,
From filthy farms, we learned about types of alarms we can ring,
Are you gon listen? It seems the only sense you got is vision,
And since we shared our senses now the cents is steady slipping,
And since we stopped the youth from praying, sinfulness is livid,
And the rich dont really give a ***** cause they dont gotta live it,
I see art living every day and never paid a visit,
To yall the hoods a museum and we just exhibits
The truth is just some digits, a means to an end,
By any means, ????? gon win.
Since yall wont listen, Ill use fists in place of my pens,
So then maybe yall should see the end.
Dwell in the Valley of Death, fell in the pits of coal,
Into the mountaintop, where streets are paved in gold,
But I know, only God can put out our flame, until then we gon face our pain.
But I know, only God can put out our flame, until then we gon stake our claim...
On these Dirty Acres.