Macklemore & Chief Keef

[Verse 1: Raz Simone] So many stuck in a box They got me stuck underground I'm pushing keys to open locks My mama's homeless and nobody knows it I'm not dead or broke So where I'm from that means you're fucking chosen My city thought that I might part the sea open Most have given up, but some keep hoping I know I can't let 'em down, but I don't think I could be Moses I'm looking for an angel, but I only see omens All my dogs are locked away, they turned out to be rodents And any cats that I roll with now I have to check they motives I'm still a hot nigga, but I swear this shit's the coldest Because at any given moment I could fly right off the handle And change all of my life's components Because I'm still in the field doing what I have to do to keep going It's funny, I could buy another bird and keep whipping yay Shoot another nigga today Then hop on the phone with the richest people in the game And my life would still be the exact fucking same Where's the change? Every year seems like I'm getting closer, but my only fear Is that I'm actually moving further away from the tier If I don't make it doing this I'll rob twenty banks or do a hundred years, I swear And while I'm mad at these fake rappers having hundreds of fans My home girl just shot her brains out right in front of her man And I ignored her, call the day before, swear I feel fucking bad Like I could've said something to give her hope But I was too busy touching cash And all the blogs keep asking me Raz Do you fuck with Mack? Does he put off the city? Is he really giving back? I just tell 'em I love his music and he seems like a humble man But me and my niggas is still in these streets And we could really use a track We could really use a Grammy more than we can use a gram Your song 'White Privileges' is what got me into you It's almost really sad Because you prophesied everything that's happened But it's being carried out by your hands I think you owe it to your people, I think you owe it to your fans But you don't owe anybody shit No rappers helped you get where you were at You were on your own shit, while they were cliqued up in a pack I was under aged making music for my own ears Songs zipped up in my mack Selling guns, drugs and bitches, magazines clipped up in my strap Staying up two weeks at a time watching So I wouldn't get hit up in the trap This is culture, these are lives, this is more than just a rap Nowadays you can raise the murder rate On twitter, facebook or instagram And these rappers are so leaned up and numb That they could really give a damn I know you want to make a change But you don't wanna lose your fans Like if you say black lives matter, there goes half your demograph I'm just sitting in the back I've been standing for so much shit that my knees are finna crack I see the weaknesses in rap Most kids won't even listen to a fucking beat that isn't trap Or they sell a boy band image of a rapper Who has no meaning in his tracks I just have to keep it real, it seems like I'm the only one that can I can really give a fuck how the world feels anymore I have to take a stand