[AnTiKHriSt]

Listen by Styles P
the second half of the first verse and the whole second verse

I gotta grab my sword
and when I die I got some things I wanna ask the Lord
like, why we dying from AIDS
and why on TV it's aight to be gay
aint that sorta like my gun got the right to be waved
if I could sit back and watch a whole cipher of slaves
ask my man where the blacks at
ask myself where the next Malcolm X at [I don't know]
Is he makin Salat, or upstate like a ape in a box
am I a human or a fallen angel
got to pray by myself cuz I'm out of angle
I aint facin the east, tell the brothers I was shakin the beast
had the nine and the eight in the streets
open your eyes, stay wise, cuz even Satan is deep
I pray for a better living
even though I think I'm better dying
why, cuz I'd rather hear the angels singing
why, and I don't wanna hear my people crying, feel me black


[Verse 2]
'Bout to be on some clever shit [I got to be]
I gotta think if the president is prejudice
and that's another eight years down
the 500 year warn, that's a eight year round
I don't really mean to sweat it
but the war been on before they came on your TV and settle
They don't need lead to shoot ya
why would a man make a computer to head the future
I think about it in a weed session
They said better technology, all I see is regressin
blew up our buildings in fact [blow us all up]
but if they live under the sun then them children is black
'fore the devil get more time I'd rather see the world cease
hit the afterlife of world peace
where black men don't die, the women don't cry
and the little kids get provided for and play in the sky, what

and jadas verse on 'hate in ya blood' was decent, not my favorite, but a hot verse

Papi had raw, then I bought him out
You know me, fuck •••••s
Kill 'em all, let God sort 'em out
Rapid fire got my hands shakin'
And everybody hate dyin'
But most •••••s die hatin'
While y'all run to the bank
I run to the brink
A real thug keep the Tommy gun under the mink
I got a glass kitchen
You can see what's under my sink
And I do shit just to do it
Too much money to think
So you can hate all you want
I'mma still be 'Kiss
Dirty, a lot of paper, filthy rich
JD's the architect, he built these hits
Ruff Ryder's, So So Def, feel this shit
And you can tell any one of your boys
You might find 'em in a hood near you and any one of his toys
Cause I know you got hate in your blood
Still dump eight in your mug
So cock sucker take it and love, uh