Buck 65 Year Zero
[HARD] ...to the core, battle scarred & still standin' I'm workin' the technics, the newborn's abandoned Instead of demanding to clock a thousand just to Rock the house and shit, walk the miles in my shoes Kiss my ass in the middle, say pretty please And see for yourself that I should get fi'ty Gs Heads to bed over a thousand blown I got skills to satisfy until the cows come home Yet and still, getting dissed by dead presidents For as long as the random house is my residence Run down to the point where some say it's an eyesore But at sundown, the neighborhood will see some shit to die for Restoration of the classic spectacle and proud as hell 'Cause we can all share in something more respectable Shouts out to those who voted "yes" in the comittee And acid in the face for those who want to treat the city Like a firing range... in the land of make-believe You're gonna suffocate when it's time for you to take a breather So drop the bomb that breaks the world in two pieces You'll see the bonfire kindled with the pages of your thesis Faces of the damned are seen in pictures To be burned in the square where they used to burn witches! The path is made with broken glass to crawl across All is lost... destination: HOLOCAUST!