How We Think

[Verse 1: Sick Jacken] Street kid royalty, kings cause the loyalty Don’t rat, don’t dime, reap what the spoils be Hoping that the cops and the feds keep ignoring me If they ask questions you can bet that’s when my lawyer be Small minds checkmate, the pigs trying to get him and arrest ? Pharmaceuticals to get my head straight My mind open, psycho when I put the coke in That’s why I sound a little strange when my words are spoken Laws are broken by the token crime often Nine times out of dimes rat chime with the square motion And so the game’s changed from shooty range To shooty ? to feds to paperwork that’s full of names That’s why I’m on a solo tip cause the one-sided gun don’t flip That’s just my new shit, though the concept of my crimey is behind me You can still find me in the presence of a sick army [Hook] Do I gotta play the role just to be liked? Get yours, I’mma get mine That’s why I write the shit I write in my raps You know how we think, I’mma get mine Rap, hip hop, underground, mainstream Get yours, I’mma get mine That’s why I write the shit I write my raps You know how we think, I’mma get mine [Verse 2: Slaine] I paint a picture of the streets, heroin fiends and thieves With rotted teeth in the alleys when they spotted police I’m the rowdy cry of addiction and the voice of despair Like the hope that burns inside em, put the noise in his ear Like beside him full of poison with his boys out of lock up Riding beside him, riding and dying hard in the iron I’m the poster child for white America gone wrong Before you figure me out I’m long gone They call me Slaine cause I speak through the dying eyes of a wise soul That cries cold through each story that I’ve told Crafted in my fabric, I’m not just rapping to music Apparently what’s happened: I have captured a movement Splashing the absolute juice through intrusive truths I’m the old fashioned new sense of a nuisance’s noose They’re calling out for help from the heart of the youthless youth That’s what happens when you stop just doing you for you [Hook] [Verse 3: Sabac Red I’m all about the people and progression, porn flicks and politics A lot of it’s ironic, got a long list of followers With silencers attached, they shoot up the house It’s pure chaos like the cover of The Future Is Now My goons move in a crowd keep it under control Then BP your bitch, feed her things and plug up her holes At my shows grown folks throw their sets in the air I’ve been with fans smoke boges, drink Mexican beer Al-Jahir, Al-Jihad, do you believe in the god? I’m aware I strand somewhere between the seas and the stars Police in their cars playing games of evens and odds And creep in the yard, now you leaving bleeding with scars I speak these bars to escape it, fuck the fake shit I hate it, I wanna shapeshift that digging in a crate shit My patience and kindness turned hatred to violence I pray for the day we read sacred environments [Hook]