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There's a war going on outside no-one is safe from Didn’t notice 'til they took it out my paystub Proletariat until you find me face up Five fingers make a fist; better raise one Now you're holding up a deadly combination Raise the other for the brother tryin’ to change some 'Til you got a set to even the equation Stick and move until the opportune occasion Innovation will set me free eventually Microchips, gigabytes, technology I see it comin' quicker, they think it's just speculatin' Something's in the air; something's in this newfound data Buried inside the crossfader: Alpha, Omega Analog hop; digital operator See, they're running out of bait to lower the fuel base Because their oil and gold don’t hold the same weight My clique’s awake from 1-8-48 For better raise hell when the time coordinates It ain't a question of if, but of when I’m preparing my mind and my body until then (What kind of life am I standing for?) Yo, a party ain't a party if you can't get in You best to open up the floor or we gon' bust right in The velvet ropes will choke your flashin’ When the crowd get hype and the beats get violent
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