Valley of Death - CunninLynguists

Now I seen obscene times before this hip-hop game came

Like the cops that checked me, left me in mate

To a system where Gingerbread Men are to overbake

Put to work in the dirt for a buck and quarter a day

Choppin' down trees for the next prison that’s made

And separate us from slaves for thirty dollars in pay

The jailer got a tailor and an F250

Standin' on Dirty Acres feelin' goddamn filthy

Natti stands for his, suckers crawl for others

Understand the biz, I suffocate undercovers

Cause somebody gets paid, our lemons are simply beginnings

My sweat been the sugar in some cracker’s lemonade

Got my brother in Baghdad, hands clenchin' grenades

While we hustle like house niggas, try’na buy chains

Back asswards for try’na buy change

I’mma walk through the Valley and rally through my pains, nigga

I’mma wear your confederate flag and be a rebel

Burn this witch down, Gretel with heavy metal

Cancelled, for pissin' on our hopes and esteems

Since I’s a youth seen it, seen it like they broke in my dreams

Weave it together, I need all the yarn you can swing

From filthy farms we learned about what type alarm you can ring

Are you gon' listen?

It seems the only sense you got is vision

And since we shed our senses now the sense is steady slippin'

And since we stopped our youth from prayin' senselessness is livid

And the rich don’t really give a fuck cause they don’t gotta live it

I see hard livin' e’ryday, you never payed a visit

To ya’ll the 'hood's a museum, in truth we just exhibits

In truth we just some digits, a means to an end

By any means from our KY we gon' win

Since ya’ll won’t listen, I oughta use fists in place of my pen

So then maybe all this shit’ll sink in

Dwell in the Valley of Death, fell in the pits it holds

Been to the mountain top where streets are paved in gold

But I know «Only God can put out our flame, until then we gon' face our pain»

And I know «Only God can put out our flame

Until then we gon' stake our claim, on these Dirty Acres»