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stroke one - conspiracy lyrics

they don’t want to hear jfk conspiracies.
manchurian candidates and john jr. in the sea.
that’s neither near me or way over there.
you thinks its private, fed’s laugh as they overhear.
apps to crack your iphone, gps track, i’m home.
fedex, ups, amazon drone, i’m not home.
ident-ty theft? is he a friend of me? yes.
how many -ss-ssins? how many kennedy’s left?
how many doctors, got a remedy for rest?
prescribe an iv to sleep, a remedy for the stress.
how many actors and actresses
end up on top but lay flat as the mattress is?
too many names engulfed in federal flames.
fireside chat, then throw my speech in the flames.
bill cosby sweater, no drug references .
conspiracy theory, outside the box, where the lesson is.

they don’t hear me.
they don’t hear me.
they don’t hear me.
they don’t hear me.

they don’t hear me
they don’t hear me.
they don’t hear me.
they don’t hear me.

they don’t want to hear, mike was murdered by sony records.
if you’d get robbed for your chain, imagine if you owned elvis’s collection.
i’m from a section where no kids look like one direction .
if that many hoods was together in one pic, they’d get arrested.
if you got killed today who would be the suspect?
which one of your friends your family gon’ trust next?
he gon’ get this work, the fed gon’ take out his check.
if he get that work, then they gon’ stake out his rest.
you can say life’s a mess and take pills.
learn from your mistakes, know you’re going to take spills.
got dreams, ambitions that’s going to take mils.
this is how you take a hustle, and make it pay bills.
call it confidence, they call it, whatever .
the black cloud follows a hood in all weather.
or not. dirty hands counting gwap.
next to n-body, at the top. is where i found my spot.

they don’t hear me.
they don’t hear me.
they don’t hear me.
they don’t hear me.

they don’t want to hear, edward snowden, anonymous,
the thin line is between conspiracy theories and common sense.
they don’t want to hear about the god particle,
weather machines, whether or not marshall law is true.
they don’t want to hear, the government embed reporters.
in bed with the const-tution, not what our teachers taught us.
freedom of the press. pressure bust pipes.
exibit a, is your photo that got a hundred likes.
young blacks the targets, no charge if you clap one.
but they’ll deny it like they do the heart attack gun.
we used to think of the fed in a van minutes away.
now, every conversation, screened by the nsa.
the f.b.i in your ig and dm .
he got locked for that inbox now they screaming free him.
but i’m a end this, cause ” i wanna live” like big pun.
rest in peace to makeveli in cuba on the run.

- stroke one lyrics

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