[Verse one]

The only outlet that I grew up with
Lower districts of Dallas
Wanted murderers who stand out in public
Toothpicks in their mouths, bicuspids chipped or missing
They smile disgusting
Pass them at the gas station pumps
And I tense up as I catch their judgment
Not the type of cats you want to fuck with
Tales of a boy from the concrete jungle
Where people find solace at the bottom of a bottle
And the primary predator is hunger
Doublewide dungeon
Cigarette butts on the sofa
And when the school systems in the Southside worsen
It gets harder to learn
The dropout rate gets higher and higher
And it becomes impossible to turn the cycle around
High schools drown from lack of funding given to nicer towns
Kids get bullied and start firing rounds
Bring in the medics and have them wipe it down
They make us read poetry like Keats in English
Then wonder why we zone out
He pays attention to his teachers a little bit
But to rappers he pays higher amounts
The system is calm and effective
Congress and Senate
The lives that they mess with
The families Mitt Romney evicted
The Wall Street villains Obama re-elected
But the sun comes at the end of every nightfall
From the country to the inner-city sidewalk
Tap into your transcendental light bulb
Step out of yourself into my world

[Chorus]

Land of the rich, world of the poor
Home of the disproportionate
“Let me get a little more of this
Let me get a little more of this”
That’s what they tell me
Show me a world where the two collide
And I’ll show you what torture is
“Let me get a little more of this
Let me get a little more of this”
That’s what they tell me

Land of the rich, world of the poor
Home of the disproportionate
“Let me get a little more of this
Let me get a little more of this”
That’s what they tell me
Show me a world where the two collide
And I’ll show you what torture is
“Let me get a little more of this
Let me get a little more of this”

[Verse two]

It was never easy for me to be the emcee you see on the TV screen
Are you serious, Walter D?
This shit’s what you really want us all to think?
Terminate the contracts, get your balls back
Let the memories be dissolved and freed
How can you start talking
About all of the happiness that material objects bring
While the Congo bleeds
Pakistani girls get flogged in the streets
On their palms and their knees by the mobs and police
That respond to their people’s call for peace
Gold deposits, oil reserves
Dead bodies of boys on the curb
As emcees we can either be a part of the problem or solution
The choice is yours
I had a dream that I saw the future
And it all started unraveling
Like an airborne javelin through timeline, traveling
And it was gnarly
But the sun comes at the end of every nightfall
From the country to the inner-city sidewalk
Tap into your transcendental light bulb
Step out of yourself and into my world

[Chorus]