Hear Me

[Intro – Journalist 103] I'm in the struggle for y’all out here you, man. Ya know? So listen closely. Yo [Verse 1 – Journalist 103] I craft rhymes designed for mind stimulation I was blessed to turn a hobby to an occupation Rock the mics for the people, gettin’ standin’ ovation ‘Cause my verbal demonstration’s a little abrasive Hatin’ fakeness, protestin’ the fairy tale Bein’ booked by the radio for the record sales But I see what it is—they want our souls in hell The devil’s runnin’ the media—it ain’t hard to tell I derail the sucka train, the thought Which usually leaves most of my kind locked in the blocks Lil’ cockin’ the Glock with the pistol to your knot Check it in before you splattered over this sidewalk I don't side talk—homeboy, I'm a straight shooter My verbal missiles is locking on anything moving So if you know like I know, you'd better keep it moving Before you caught in the stampede of a verbal movement [Hook – Journalist 103] Every word I express turns to action. Watch it manifest Speaking out for the oppressed, fightin’ for freedom, homie, and nothin’ less Steady, spittin’ that raw shit. Watch as the crowd turns to mosh pits Let the [?] run this truth when I step in the booth. Who wanna start shit? [Verse 2 – Saigon] It’s hip hop. Tower can sell. Niggas is still in and out of them jail Papa still got the powder for sell All the blindfolded blacks act like we ain't allowed to rebel It’s hell. We runnin’ out of ways to try to prevail The women turnin’ to strippers, got vaginas for sale The fellas is just ridiculous, lack loyalty and honor as well I got some comrades and mine are for real Check. I'm tryin’ to call the guys, is ready to organize The Good Guy Gang bangers, boy we on a ride You be surprised if I could describe all the times Niggas ready to ride—most of them offer they lives If we buildin’ for the betterment of our children The future look bright and we never give up until then Although I never earn a third of my respects I still shoulder the Tech. My culture: Verbal Architect Yeah, full effect [Hook – Journalist 103] Every word I express turns to action. Watch it manifest Speaking out for the oppressed, fightin’ for freedom, homie, and nothin’ less Steady, spittin’ that raw shit. Watch as the crowd turns to mosh pits Let the [?] run this truth when I step in the booth. Who wanna start shit? [Verse 3 – Fashawn] I give birth to a rhyme, now I'm flashing my flesh Let destiny manifest with every sentence I sketch The world is mine—I don't deserve nothin’ less Cut all the small talk. Cut the check I rap for those in in need of reparation Reciprocity. I'm on the Odyssey [?]. Obviously. I'm the last real nigga alive as far I can see Uh. It’s like my pen’s filled with Ex-Lax Shit on the track. What you expect? Splat! Lames get the chains off they neck snatched I don't see a finishing line, I'm on my next lap Ugh. I can't stand you niggas Y’all be on that bullshit. I should brand you niggas Uh. Not comfortable with coming in third Got a bundle of words. I just wanna be heard Word… Word… [Hook – Journalist 103] Every word I express turns to action. Watch it manifest Speaking out for the oppressed, fightin’ for freedom, homie, and nothin’ less Steady, spittin’ that raw shit. Watch as the crowd turns to mosh pits Let the [?] run this truth when I step in the booth. Who wanna start shit?