I watched the world crash behind the glass of my windowpane
I saw the people panic, mouths full of dirt and shame
I saw the massive unrest spread through a hundred thousand chests
I watched people send people to a Godless fuckin' death.
I was just a little boy, taking life at full speed
Lost in the country of the ghosts and the thieves.
It's a thin, grim world, and it's a ghoulish universe.
Yes, dogs eat dogs, and rats reach for the purse.
They traded silver for their souls! They traded paper for their hearts!
And everyday I watched The World slowly tear itself apart
Seated at my vantage, yes, much to my advantage, yes,
I watched it all happen from behind my window's glasses, it's
All I can ever do when the mobs start to throng –
I just throw my headphones on, and I softly sing along.

When you're young the world is scary. You get old, it's fucking crazy!
It ain't too much to say that, baby, hip-hop raised me.
I had my mother and my father, but these authors and these prophets
Speak of profits – how to live it up. Not givin' up or stoppin'.
True poets of my day – my soul devours what they say.
It made it easier for this kid to cope with endless skies of gray.
So a shout-out to BIG, and a shout-out to Pac,
And all those from the underground who just will not stop.
I may be white on both sides, but I recognize the struggle,
And, today I understand that the modern man must hustle.
I can hear my city scream like it was all a dream,
But I protect my fuckin' neck with eyes focused on the cream.
These are lessons that I learned – yes, things you can't teach,
And it was knowledge that I earned, though I'm from suburban streets.
It keeps me safe from the hate this city blows through my body
Like the blast from a Goddamn double-barrel shottie.

Hip-Hop is no longer on the radio
All these kids in need of words will still find ways to play it, though.
I Always wanted to flow – to be the emcee with the illest rep
Today there's trashy airwaves – AutoTune: the death of intellect.
Am I wrong to say I'm not the rap game's whore?
I will not insert here some lame sex metaphor.
I'll change the rules and change the score. I won't invent scenarios.
I won't brag when I rap about plowing through some trashy ho's.
That shit won't keep you warm when the wind starts to shriek.
I sleep alone or not at night – the point is that I sleep.
You can keep those flows going, man, only so far
Before those ho's you've been blowing can't care about your car,
You superstar! You feel cool with that grill?
I'll spit ammo from enamel till careers are killed.
Please excuse the venom that I place between these notes,
Because these lyrics are the poison, but they also are the antidote.
I choke on what you wrote till I can no longer breathe.
I will not be an emcee if it means bein' in your league.
Let's have the words back, please, let's have the bitter poetry
That my childhood heroes just spit so free.
Let's set our souls loose and, start the revolution
Before we all drown, baby, down in the pollution.
If not, I will keep writing. You will find these worried sounds
And my arm-bound army will be heard from the underground!