party

Look
State shit, break shit
All up in the bank shit
Turning to defend shit
Turn into a tank? shit
I've been known to roll up and turn to rank, shit
General, many roles, and they're all
Lit like matchstick

Stankonia
3000 soldiers here
Peep how they sold ther souls
I mean; yeah, that could be us in a year
We could free us
We can feed us
We can be us
We can hear us in the speakers when they speak up so they'll see us so clear
When they peek and something higher comes around
The fire we've been feeding'll alight to higher ground, train shit
Admirers'll dip their feet, teeter, sit and chatter
Sipping tea, the leader heats a ladder, picking out a lane, shit
How'd they do?
Is it good enough for you?
Would you keep on turning that stove up so you can decipher how their choice of aim do?

Game shit
Dissing all the pain shit
Coz ignoring ain't shit
But we're scared to face it

You get a lock-on
Focus on the fight
This is a gigantic difference



Credits
Writer(s): Parham Raoof
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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