Talk Story

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?)