Face the Facts

They say pay your taxes, live in peace
You're worth more alive then you are deceased
Not until they fill you with every disease
This democracy is a pharmacy
They say go to college, be like us
Don't pay off debt, yo, what's the rush?
Baby boomers so far gone from the truth
I guess crooks look better in ties n' suits
Ultimatums, you'll be forced to make'em
All these games, you'll be forced to play'em
The game wants you blind, and out of body
Unless it's through one eye, Illuminati
So don't sell your soul for that Maserati
(Instead) Destroy the machine with a 12 gauge shotty

You know someday, everything will fade to black
There ain't no time to waste, gotta stay on track
Won't stop til it's over, face the facts
Control the rap game
S.R.A. came to play, we ain't going away
Now everybody put stand up, put your damn hands up
Let'em know where you're from, S.D., face the facts

I'm just trying to survive
Not trying to be another street rat who's gotta sleep outside
I saw a bum on the outskirts of downtown holding a sign
And all it read was "sorry I tried"
I pray that don't happen to me
So once again, I'm living in the booth with headphones for pillows
And I'm smoking hella weed by the end of the week
Got high, coughed up a couple dope LP's (Damn)
S.D. the city that raised me
It's growing and changing, but it's always been crazy
It's the same old hustle, staying on the grind
Trying to make a dollar outta nickel and a dime
I'm looking for a sign, got these niggas looking up
Cuz the shit I really want isn't flying in the sky
The games changed, people are strangers
Dying at a young age, living in danger
Police brutality, mass fatalities, innocent causalities
One of these ima be
So ima pray when I'm making that cheddar
Praying for another day and life will be better
Cuz I know that I gotta go someday
So I'm spittin' this fire like I'm burning down Pompeii

You know someday, everything will fade to black
There ain't no time to waste, gotta stay on track
Won't stop til it's over, face the facts
Control the rap game
S.R.A. came to play, we ain't going away
Now everybody put stand up, put your damn hands up
Let'em know where you're from, S.D., face the facts



Credits
Writer(s): Isaac Romero
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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