Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 3:47 | ||||
2. |
| 3:47 | ||||
3. |
| 3:47 | ||||
4. |
| 3:41 | ||||
(feat. Immortal Technique)
[Intro: Akir] Yeah, One Enterprises, Viper Records Presents Akir, Immortal Technique And this is "Treason" bitch, uhh [Immortal Technique:] I'm not down with the conscious rap, or the Sambos My flow is cancerous milk like Monsanto's sold through the hood, in a package of murder I'm like white people, get fired and back with a burner Gauge 5 semi, with the infrared beams So fuck the Ku Klux and the Combat-18 (fuck y'all) I put bullets in your spleen, sendin you to the grave And through all that, a motherfucker still get paid And cause of that, some niggaz can't stand me man (hahaha) But that's the curse of the slave like Candyman (yeah) House niggaz that traded they soul to get ahead (jiggaboo!) And then fucked over for placin they faith in the feds (snitch) So while the government, talk about a mission to Mars They leave the hood, stuck in a position to starve Capitalism's a religion that makes Satan a god And teaches self-righteous people to embrace a facade [DP One scratches*: "Say what?"] [Chorus x2: Akir + Immortal Technique] It's a cut-throat business the way that we live Born in the hood, tryin to see a better life for the kids It ain't wrong to make money, legit or illegal But it's treason, when you turn your back on your people [DP One scratches: "Say what?"] [Akir:] Yo, yo, they be manipulatin, politicians delegatin Task of perpetratin, sounds like Satan makin racist statements of abomination, niggaz pray to somethin sacred Waitin for that force to save 'em, instead of savin Movin destinations, property papers, waitin on your 40 acres 'til you old and ancient, swole or achin while the hole is gapin To cake to make your way in I pray to God but all the "Amens" in the world'll never make your aim win Famous celebrity could fall off like lepracy, they tellin me So I pay attention, fuck the envy and the jealousy Y'all niggaz could save, Akir's a latest rave Saw me chillin on The Source page, fanbases span race Complete with shorties that blaze, be revered in my old age from rippin the stage, and even then from above when I wave Throwin flowers on my grave, burnin sage Sayin, "Thanks A, who made ways for freein the slaves," uhh [Chorus] [Immortal Technique:] Immortal Technique, Indian chief, Lord Sovereign Bear claw necklace and the puma moccasins Legal money motherfucker, you could bring the coppers in Cause I'ma take a shit on 'em, without Johnny Coch-a-ran Spittin Prometheus fire, when I speak to a liar I'm the last of the Essenes that'll teach a messiah Rip your heart out, with the technique of a Maya Cause only snitches and Kanye speak +Through a Wire+ [Akir:] Freshest attire, speak with desire, close to the passion I fall from Elijah, size up the evilest liars who think they conspire Music qualify as paranoia, mental occupiers Tight, like a pair of pliers, brain's fried up And so I aspire to erase the pride, usin amplifiers to inspire my people, we should hire Like a lion fightin vampires tired on his way to Zion Never expire, only retire when they call me Sire [I.T.:] It's a cut-throat business the way that we live [Akir:] Born in the hood, tryin to see a better life for the kids [I.T.:] It ain't wrong to make money, legit or illegal [Akir:] But it's treason, when you turn your back on your people, yo [DP One scratches x2: "Say what?"] |
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5. |
| 3:41 | ||||
6. |
| 5:13 | ||||