Familiar

"[1] This one for the niggas The ones that was called that descriptor When they was delivered Out there in Virginia The ones ever since who have taken the care to defend the People surrendered from coast to the coast to the cold and the whip of the lash I never lived it, but I’ll tell now… Boy it’s familiar Said, boy, it’s familiar For the gangs with the chains on they hands and they ankles it ain't just a sankofa song For the Kings, whether Martin or Rodney, who knew it unlikely but asked could we all get along! For the answer we know to that question that keep us a little suspicious We ain't the first that have wished it We ain't the first ones to get it Said, boy, it's familiar For the mothers, the daughters, the sisters Who don't get attention but often are victims So they suffer in silence from all kinds of violence And try as they might we don't listen For the beatings, the treatment, the rapings, the hangings and lynchings I hope that we can be forgiven I never lived it, but boy, it's familiar Say, boy, it’s familiar All black on my windows Pistol under my pillow If I'm an activist, I'm no pacifist I'm just keeping shit real, though I ain't turning a blind eye And I ain't expecting no heroes I ain't pressing no 911 But I ain't living in fear, though [Hook] Now what? The same shit. The same shit Now what? The same shit. The same shit Now what? The same shit. The same shit Now what? The same shit Now what? The same shit Boy, it's familiar Mess with them boys, and they kill you Then get a lawyer to deal with Annoying appeals to The public to show 'em they did 'em A favor destroying a villain No, you ain't living If you know you ain't living But seconds away from a sentence Making a way for a system You die or they take you to prison Take what they know you ain't giving [2] This one for the niggas Who just got from prison Or on they way, stuck on the ave Hustle from morning to evening for things that they need Or the things they can have City's so cold, that you gotta fend for yourself, they compare it to Iraq ‘cause it’s a war that we live in Imagine the war when our children say “Boy, it’s familiar." For the gangs and the fame And the whips and the chains And the game that we play through the pain That we drench ourselves in when we win Since we win at the game then it seems we should call it Champ Pain Elevated—we taking the L but we winning ‘cause we still living Living through pain, but we living Giving through strain, but we giving Boy, it’s familiar For the mothers, the daughters, the sisters We don't give attention but often are victims We inflict them with violence And tell them to suffer in silence, so why would we listen? For the beatings, the treatment, the rapings, the hangings and lynchings I hope we can be forgiven I hope we can be forgiven Boy, it's familiar All black on my windows Pistol under my pillow If I'm an activist, I'm no pacifist I'm just keeping shit real, though I ain't turning a blind eye And I ain't expecting no heroes I ain't pressing no 911 But I ain't living in fear, though [Hook] Now what? The same shit. The same shit Now what? The same shit. The same shit Now what? The same shit. The same shit Now what? The same shit Now what? The same shit Boy, it's familiar Mess with them boys, and they kill you Then get a lawyer to deal with Annoying appeals to The public to show 'em they did 'em A favor destroying a villain No, you ain't living If you know you ain't living But seconds away from a sentence Making a way for a system You die or they take you to prison Take what they know you ain't giving.”