Macklemore & Chief Keef

[Verse 1: Raz Simone]
So many stuck in a box
They got me stuck underground
I'm pushing keys to open locks
My mama's homeless and nobody knows it
I'm not dead or broke
So where I'm from that means you're fucking chosen
My city thought that I might part the sea open
Most have given up, but some keep hoping
I know I can't let 'em down, but I don't think I could be Moses
I'm looking for an angel, but I only see omens
All my dogs are locked away, they turned out to be rodents
And any cats that I roll with now I have to check they motives
I'm still a hot nigga, but I swear this shit's the coldest
Because at any given moment
I could fly right off the handle
And change all of my life's components
Because I'm still in the field doing what I have to do to keep going
It's funny, I could buy another bird and keep whipping yay
Shoot another nigga today
Then hop on the phone with the richest people in the game
And my life would still be the exact fucking same
Where's the change?
Every year seems like I'm getting closer, but my only fear
Is that I'm actually moving further away from the tier
If I don't make it doing this
I'll rob twenty banks or do a hundred years, I swear
And while I'm mad at these fake rappers having hundreds of fans
My home girl just shot her brains out right in front of her man
And I ignored her, call the day before, swear I feel fucking bad
Like I could've said something to give her hope
But I was too busy touching cash
And all the blogs keep asking me Raz
Do you fuck with Mack?
Does he put off the city?
Is he really giving back?
I just tell 'em I love his music and he seems like a humble man
But me and my niggas is still in these streets
And we could really use a track
We could really use a Grammy more than we can use a gram
Your song 'White Privileges' is what got me into you
It's almost really sad
Because you prophesied everything that's happened
But it's being carried out by your hands
I think you owe it to your people, I think you owe it to your fans
But you don't owe anybody shit
No rappers helped you get where you were at
You were on your own shit, while they were cliqued up in a pack
I was under aged making music for my own ears
Songs zipped up in my mack
Selling guns, drugs and bitches, magazines clipped up in my strap
Staying up two weeks at a time watching
So I wouldn't get hit up in the trap
This is culture, these are lives, this is more than just a rap
Nowadays you can raise the murder rate
On twitter, facebook or instagram
And these rappers are so leaned up and numb
That they could really give a damn
I know you want to make a change
But you don't wanna lose your fans
Like if you say black lives matter, there goes half your demograph
I'm just sitting in the back
I've been standing for so much shit that my knees are finna crack
I see the weaknesses in rap
Most kids won't even listen to a fucking beat that isn't trap
Or they sell a boy band image of a rapper
Who has no meaning in his tracks
I just have to keep it real, it seems like I'm the only one that can
I can really give a fuck how the world feels anymore
I have to take a stand