If you can't say fuck the police out loud and in public We can't strategically build with you It's a crime to be poor Satellite arm of the law Body snatcher No man knows the hour 4, 5, 6, is it my time yet Full circle Perfect loop like dying on my birthday Cremate me in my boots Scatter my ashes on an ocean Imma walk on water The suicide draw for the fourth quarter Everybody play the fool Top of the key, my shot water Four classic Bundled to the neck in my Sister Rosetta Tharpe sweater Varsity letterman To be a nigga is to eschew elegance Melancholy medicine for pressures Spirit swells like faces under baton strike The heart hardener Her raging cosmic eye shower rain revenges on those who describe the real and assume power That's a wet dream I woke up on fire Still in the east My only goal is to die free with my dick hard Far from the potter's field if I'm being selfish That's not my story though If my mother singing glory it's cause her baby boy getting over on his own term My brother too, he's so precarious Ain't no flamin' chariot up north unless we torch a prison bus Sterilize the wound to keep us kins who come Flush in the face, a numbers game Projections, start with seeds in the third grade Incubation, more black bodies required There's no soul in this machine There's no soul in this machine There's no soul in this machine There's no soul in this machine There's no soul in this machine