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Burn Hollywood burn. I smell a riot going on.
Sambo, porch monkey, dance a jig junkie.
Martin Luther King dream deferred for Red Monkeys.

Yes a master, shuck and jive, man I’m fucking high.
Malcolm X gripped a A-K for a generation that don’t care why.

My watch, my ice, my car, my bitch.
Emmett Till hung from a tree so we can sing this shit.

Pimping, Pandering, dope boy, trap nigga.
Shoot em up, bang, bang. See we trapped nigga.

Fuck it! Make it rain and throw your hood up.
See reality ain’t real, it’s more like flavor of love.

Their laughing to the bank. They are laughing to the bank.
Generation selling my soul will keep them laughing to the bank.











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Tags: wakeup

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