How We Think (feat Sick Jacken, Slaine, Sabac Red) - DJ JS-1, Slaine, Sabac Red

Street kid royalty, kings cause the loyalty

Don’t rat, don’t dime, reap what the spoils be

Hoping that the cops and the feds keep ignoring me

If they ask questions you can bet that’s when my lawyer be

Small minds checkmate, the pigs trying to get him and arrest?

Pharmaceuticals to get my head straight

My mind open, psycho when I put the coke in

That’s why I sound a little strange when my words are spoken

Laws are broken by the token crime often

Nine times out of dimes rat chime with the square motion

And so the game’s changed from shooty range

To shooty?

to feds to paperwork that’s full of names

That’s why I’m on a solo tip cause the one-sided gun don’t flip

That’s just my new shit, though the concept of my crimey is behind me

You can still find me in the presence of a sick army

Do I gotta play the role just to be liked?

Get yours, I’mma get mine

That’s why I write the shit I write in my raps

You know how we think, I’mma get mine

Rap, hip hop, underground, mainstream

Get yours, I’mma get mine

That’s why I write the shit I write my raps

You know how we think, I’mma get mine

I paint a picture of the streets, heroin fiends and thieves

With rotted teeth in the alleys when they spotted police

I’m the rowdy cry of addiction and the voice of despair

Like the hope that burns inside em, put the noise in his ear

Like beside him full of poison with his boys out of lock up

Riding beside him, riding and dying hard in the iron

I’m the poster child for white America gone wrong

Before you figure me out I’m long gone

They call me Slaine cause I speak through the dying eyes of a wise soul

That cries cold through each story that I’ve told

Crafted in my fabric, I’m not just rapping to music

Apparently what’s happened: I have captured a movement

Splashing the absolute juice through intrusive truths

I’m the old fashioned new sense of a nuisance’s noose

They’re calling out for help from the heart of the youthless youth

That’s what happens when you stop just doing you for you

[Verse 3: Sabac Red

I’m all about the people and progression, porn flicks and politics

A lot of it’s ironic, got a long list of followers

With silencers attached, they shoot up the house

It’s pure chaos like the cover of The Future Is Now

My goons move in a crowd keep it under control

Then BP your bitch, feed her things and plug up her holes

At my shows grown folks throw their sets in the air

I’ve been with fans smoke boges, drink Mexican beer

Al-Jahir, Al-Jihad, do you believe in the god?

I’m aware I strand somewhere between the seas and the stars

Police in their cars playing games of evens and odds

And creep in the yard, now you leaving bleeding with scars

I speak these bars to escape it, fuck the fake shit

I hate it, I wanna shapeshift that digging in a crate shit

My patience and kindness turned hatred to violence

I pray for the day we read sacred environments