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I thank the Lord for every morning he allows me to rise,
And though the sun is shining, there’s a cloud in the sky
Lettin’ me know that at any moment there could be rain.
And as beautiful as life is, there still can be pain.
Down the park, I hear the sirens, just screamin’ away,
And then the inevitable happens, the end of them days,
As sad as it sounds, but that’s the price we all gotta pay.
And the whole world knows God giveth, and will taketh away.
I live and I learn, I sit and watch my cigarette burn
Down to the ash. It reminds me of the now and the past.
I say a little prayer, cause eventually I’ll stand in the path
Of the souls and dark rows that lead to rest.
Scarface, “What Can I Do?,” The Fix, 2002
I thought I’d probably die in prison, expensive taste in women,
Ain’t have no pot to piss in, now my kitchen full of dishes.
Nose bloody from that sniffin’, your heroin addiction
Trigger finger itchin’, fuck parental supervision…
Purple sippin’, finger twistin’, teeth glisten like it’s Memphis
A bunch of hypocritic Christians, the land of no religion.
A$AP Rocky, “LongLiveA$AP,” LongLiveA$AP, 2013
I bet you never heard of a playa with no game,
Told the truth to get what I want, but shot it with no shame.
Take this music dead serious while others entertain.
I see they makin’ they paper so I guess I can’t complain…or can I?
I feel they disrespectin’ the whole thang.
Them hooks like sellin’ dope to black folks,
And I choke when the food they serve ain’t tastin’ right,
My stomach can’t digest it even when I bless it…
Andre 3000, “13th Floor/Growing Old,” from Outkast’s ATLiens, 1996
We brag on havin’ bread, but none of us are bakers.
We all talk havin’ greens, but none of us on acres.
If none of us on acres, and none of us grow wheat,
Then who will feed our people when our people need to eat?
So it seems our people starve from lack of understandin’
Cause all we seem to give them is some ballin’ and some dancin’,
And some talkin’ about our car and imaginary mansions.
We should be indicted for bullshit we inciting,
Havin’ children deaf and pretendin’ it’s exciting.
We are advertisements for agony and pain.
We exploit the youth. We tell them to join a gang.
We tell them dope stories, introduced them to the game.
Killer Mike, “Reagan,” R.A.P. Music, 2012
Yo, where the teachers went, with all that pro-black shit?
Where all the conscious niggas, who used to chat like this?
See, I remember yesterday when y’all was Gods and Earths,
Egyptians and metaphysicists on the verge of giving birth
To Understanding, and planting seeds that grow.
Now everybody’s on that bullshit about killing and so.
Wise Intelligent, “Conscious Style,” The New World Order, 1996

The poor get worked, the rich get richer,
The world gets worse, do you get the picture?
The poor gets dead, the rich get depressed,
The ugly get mad, the pretty get stressed.
The ugly get violent, the pretty get gone,
The old get stiff, the young get stepped on.

Whoever told you that “it was all good” lied,
So throw your fists up if you not satisfied.

J-Live, “Satisfied,” All of the Above, 2002
I don’t see the world as you see it.
I see it as a game, and my aim is to complete it.
What you live for is what you die for:
To make a little name, grab some fame and the high score.
Murs, “Ice Cream Mountain,” from McKenzie Eddy’s Slow Your Horse Down, Son, 2011