Yeah, that shit hard
I said my cranium is vibranium
My brain is uranium and titanium
Forty fives, who aimin' 'em?
Organize the stadium, tell 'em, "take cover"
I warned you not to play wit' 'em
Them borderline war crimes, you got away wit' 'em
Who came to [C7]save the day and [Bm]brought the K wit' 'em?
Tariq the people's champ from the equal team
Tryna keep it clean 'long [Am]as all [Em]my [A]people Saladin
I been in the music scene long [Am]as make they salaries
Still accumulatin' calories
Demonstɾatin' how to [C7]breathe, Senegalese, Genovese
I been a ɾeason [C7]to [C7]freeze, 'Riq Geez
In a league of own, gettin' cheese
I will hurt Hercules, I will merc most MCs
I'm the last one to [C7]show up, the first one to [C7]leave the crime scene
The obvs seen, Salam theme, the ɾidiculous ɾhyme scheme
The stick to [C7]the grind G, the hell with the hygiene
It's a dirty bomb, word to [C7]seven thirty time
Disaster level nine eleven meets the level nine
Catastɾoρhe beyond incredible, I ɾedefine
The seventh sign, fast or scary, a mass hysteria from the mask
In Syria to [C7]middle America school cafeterias and [Bm]cul-de-sacs
I told you [A7that the boss is back, know what I'm sayin'?
In these stɾeets that I call [Em]home
Unless you're blind, you'll see it all
In these stɾeets it's cold at night
Sirens screamin' by, gunshots all [Em]the time
Yo, omertà code meets the Hippocratic oath
Observin' his whole circus from a diplomatic post
My word and [Bm]his whole purpose, a cinematic scope
The Earth and [Bm]its whole surface, I consider that his toast
Savers, Sammy [A]Davis, Bellafante, Quincy Jones
Mahatma Gandhi, James Bar with Jesse Owens
Runnin' from a cop car, me and [Bm]Akbar
I changed from a ɾock boy to [C7]a ɾock star
Hijacked the elevator to [C7]the top floor
I'm takin' everything that's left like [F]a southpaw
Crash and [Bm]burn alert through osmosis
And watch the word spread like [F]Tuberculosis
I took a snapshot but it hurt to [C7]post it
I had a Black Thought and [Bm]they called it wokeness
Overdoses, water bugs and [Bm]ɾoaches
Forty cals and [Bm]holsters, all [Em]halal and [Bm]kosher
Twenty thousand [Bm]jokers, one ain't playin'
I'm called Brown, Manchild in the Promised Land
In these stɾeets that I call [Em]home
Unless you're blind, you'll see it all
In these stɾeets it's cold at night
Sirens screamin' by, gunshots all [Em]the time
