Cunninlynguists - Move

Get Bramstoked off coke and fight day.

A couple of years ago I lived in Oakland and while I've been there a number of times since I simply forgot how rugged those streets can be. My place was on 24th and MLK right on the crossroads. One side was poverty, crime, drugs, hookers, and graffiti the other; corporate headquarters, fine dining, and high rises. I walked 12 blocks on San Pablo avenue Saturday morning before 9 and what I saw was entirely different from anything I see where I currently live. 

An elderly Asian man riding his bike on the sidewalk approaches a bus stop where two other men are smoking a blunt having a profanity laced conversation. The man on the bike hopes off and tries to pass but while stepping aside one of the men smoking yells, "Nigga why you on the fucking sidewalk you dumb fuck!" A block  later I hear a woman yelling at a stumbling man, "Mutha fucka you don't own my shit." At this point, while I'm not scared by any means, my pace has picked up and my chest is out saying to all around, "you better re-evaluate who you're going to wrestle with." I'm very observant of my surroundings and as I approach a known drug park with about 20 plus people higher than a kite I decide crossing the street would be for the best. Not too much further down I see a mother violently grab her 2 year old for lollygagging. I've entered a different world and it's only 30 minutes away. Where I live people wave and smile, pick up after their dogs, and have perfectly maintained lawns. Where I'm currently at, the curbs are littered with fast food remnants, cigarette butts, and an occasional needle casing. 

How can you tell me someone growing up in these two different worlds has the same shot at success in life?

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Lyrics: Cunninlynguists - Move

[Verse 1: Deacon the Villain]
Hell, so many of my peoples on bail
Return ticket given first step out the jail
Return to that living that'll leave em in the shell
They throwing up walls since conception in cells
Providing for theyselves before they hit the ninth grade
Living on blocks not cooled by nightshade
Get Bramstoked off coke and fight day
Rope-a-dope till night falls then ice faith
Its hard to keep your head up when a nigga's brain's heavy
In that rain steady cookin tryin to get those thangs ready
Same face copping either clocking on your bread or
Watching for the cops fiends coppin for the feds
We minstrels, living in the cycle like ovaries
And the hood's fertile ground to birth disorderlies
This nation got my patience in restraints
Its a warzone, boondock saints inside tanks

[Hook]
Feel your blood pressure rise, your heartbeat jump
Feel it move when everbodys feet stomp
This shit can move mountains we can make the surf break
Make the earth shake, till the earth quakes

[Verse 2: Natti]
Streets hide teeth under gumbottomed feet
Washed up dreams flood the drains underneath
Over cane niggas slain laying under wreath
From belly of a mother to the belly of a beast
Feast, let the jury say amen
12 at the table like christ came in
Released when hell has ice yay thin
And satan takes forsaken souls ice skatin
Little ghetto boys on the block waitin
For the same fuckers cuffin em to bring the weight in
Inflate prison rates cuz the state raised them
Sit them in a cinder block state playpen
Fate of a Section 8 case stay grim
So the guns stay toted and the clips stay loaded
Bait for the prey when the big rims spin
So the hunted lose focus and the beast stay bloated

[Hook]