Good evening yall Im a tell yall a story So i was walking around henhay park, right Sun was goin down, we gettin off of work late And i run into this, this man, this old man, and he tells me For my seeds well being, i declare war Hacienda louicita, i declare war For the last five hundred years Been in a war to make sure that we never see five hundred (torn?) I wont rest till my story been told I wont rest till my story been told Come on I wont rest till my story been told What I wont rest till my story been told Yo The wicked try to justify to keep what they stole It eats at their souls, guess they reap what they sow Competing with your brother for the love of the dough But we know we own nothing so we claim it fo sho Who got the guns and the gold, who left us out in the cold White wilderness i travel while im searching my own Its why im flippin up home like it was written in stone Its for the children seeking answers to the questions at home This aint no neo soul even though its subtle and slow The political is personal you suckas should know Its why my body wont rest until my story been told I wont rest until my stories have been told Now I wrote the scroll flipped the script broke the mold But my people aint free we just sat on parole My collection of records is for my son when hes grown Hell appreciate the now when we call it the old These americans forgettin they live on a globe The same planet as those left abandoned it droves Kept in bondage by the chain of a creditors loan Their money is like a bboy stance, it stays froze I (prose?) what the world decomposes to show The conditions thats depicted up in hustle and flow From (drafted?) to casket these soldiers come home My craft spit the magic off the top of the dome Im walkin alone, often get exhausted and blown Only six feet separate the coffin and throne You cavemen insist on callin sisters a ho You aint equipped to paint a picture of the city i roam Around in circles on the back of metropolitan joe Rejectin all your dogma keeps my karma in tow (provolone?) chasin pipe dream and people (to blow?) The created could never pay the creator what they owe Working till the bone cracks over timezones Push the pen to the paper nose to the grindstone I wont rest until my story been told I wont rest until my stories have been told Now I wrote the scroll flipped the script broke the mold One chapter closed but another unfolds One chapter closed but another unfolds Said one chapter closed, the other unfolds I want to say to the fam, friends, supporters worldwide, If you identify with the hustle in this struggle, Then guess what, your down (with us?)