Kunta Kinte (Just Blaze Mix)

Lyrics

[Intro: AKIR] Uh. AKIR. AKIR, One Enterprises. Uh. Come on. Kunta Kinte. Yo, yo [Verse 1: AKIR] Notice they try to own us in several ways, and 'til The grave, more than physically, we're locked in a cage. They want us Enslaved. Respect money, hustle for pay Struggle for wage. Turning the page, suddenly aged Christmas all layaway. Working your whole day away Overtime tomorrow just to borrow so your kids can play today Hoping that you get a raise for a better place to stay Well-fleshed, then you're home, standing above dwindling gold Twenty-one years old and you roll for your mom Being molded, thinking adult with the moves of A grown kid trying to focus though the images are bogus Feeling hopeless, scrambling for crumbs like roaches Trying to be a player, but nobody coaches Consuming with your credit cards, they'll swarm you like locusts Though they show interest, you never know to invest 'Cause they know the interest'll lock you deep in the debt Rewriting checks for the rent is garbage. Praying direct deposit Drop before they stop it. It adds to your profits Ghetto Economics—fuck a written promise. As long as Niggas got dollars in his pockets, I'ma keep rocking Hard to deal between that and my auto- -mobile shit. I wish somebody told me the deal Now there's kids with their bellies to fill. Better deal with Baby moms or the government will. The plot's ill [Hook: AKIR] Yo, they could care less how the fuck a nigga feel I'm struggling with bills, the slavery game is ill Accosting, a flossing nigga behind the wheel. Foul Cards in the deal, the slavery game is ill (Yeah) Yanking up the ghetto youth, scramble for their meal, hand- -cuffed against will, the slavery game is ill Hating on each other, my brother, the scene's real. Share- -cropping in the field, the slavery game is ill [Verse 2: AKIR] Yo, yeah, yo Hustle to buy realty until my pockets filthy Dime dropped, dime stopped, nigga found guilty Call and come and get me. My plans of living simply Now remain history. Wondering really lynched me Slow cats move quickly when it comes to hate Fighting for bones off his dog plate, he's upstate Ask him, he says, "Fuck it. We're crabs in a bucket" The darkest women let the lightest men fuck it Stuck in a syndrome since we rob from our home Calling women "hoes" after the cash, cars, and clothes And what's the odds of those who stuck fucking become foes Fulfilling family roles 'til the family close? Nope Not trying to be broke, we're weed-smoke thugs Who bag a bitch and handle shit to handle, hit behind the club Government projects, bricks built to echo garbage Looks like the same place we go to gain knowledge The afterschool centers where niggas grab wallets Look like the jail cells, conditioning hidden progress Girls on the way to college getting degrees to make dollars When we come together, all we do is holler Far from the same pace, the same race. Just to save face Niggas go get a job for minimum wage On the subway, the elders shake their head at the way Young people still complain, though it's better today [Hook: AKIR] Ayyo, they could care less how the fuck a nigga feel I'm struggling with bills, the slavery game is ill Accosting, a flossing nigga behind the wheel. Foul Cards in the deal, the slavery game is ill (Yeah) Yanking up the ghetto youth, scramble for their meal, hand- -cuffed against will, the slavery game is ill Hating on each other, my brother, the scene's real. Share- -cropping in the field, the slavery game is ill [Verse 3: AKIR] Yo, yo Emcees on the radio spitting their rhymes inspire Kids to start flipping their minds, saying, "This is the time" Mimicking gimmicks 'til they're fitting in stride Free shows so they can get it to you live 'til you're feeling the vibe Good luck selling it for ten, so cut it to five Most people won't give you the time just to come every line Let alone go in their pocket to give you a dime Bigger shows, now they're jocking you to get something you sign A&Rs with their contracts and dotted lines From one block to another, being sold with The other brothers, slave chains on the cover of a Classic. Tragic, the company trashed it Wondering "where's the cash?" with advanced debt With no assets, indentured service, slave bastards [Outro: AKIR] Yeah. Uh huh (Ahahahahahahahahaha). Don't get trapped, nigga