He Who Dies With The Most Toys (Bonus Track)

[Verse 1: Gen. Woundwart]
I walk down the aisle on scope
I ain't got a dime, I'm broke
But I'm playing it every note
I got my homie on stand at the front desk
Talking to the man, because he's all down with the plan
Fat leather trenchcoats, I'm about to apprehend those
Under my sleeve and break with the cheese
But I gotta avoid "He", the employee of the month
So should I take the back or the front?
Once, twice, three times I look around
And my man gives the peace sign, so I make a beelinе
I dip out into the gallery, security is tracking mе
I break loose, yo they're trying to tackle me

[Verse 2: Pat Juba]
Assault gaffle, [a thin?] hassle, black shackles
Tackles, the movement stifles my dough cycle
Of being fresh dipped soaking wet
With adrenaline slash lust, authority thoroughly can't trust
Material master, raised ill on the garments
30 deep niggas dominating your department
Store, for more pleasure, knocking ya out the box
Five pair of Travelfox, mashing around the block

[Chorus - Vocal Sample 1:]
From the earliest writings of man
We know that human race has been comprised of the haves and have-nots

[Chorus - Vocal Sample: James Brown - Papa Don't Take no Mess]
You can understand [x2]
A man has to do whatever he can

[Verse 3: Sept Sev Sev Two]
Now I'm just small potatoes planted in the field of ganking
My bank is the record store over on 4th & Franklin
I walk into the spot and case it
Rip the magnet tags off the jewel cases
Break and sell them shits at used places
Got the hookup at that spot on lake street
Baby always take these discs at 5 bucks a pop, saves me
When I'm twenty short, I'm quick to pawn four or more
I know it's against the law, but I never even been to court before
I guess my straw got pulled today, didn't try to escape
They ain't got shit, oh wait, they got that shit on videotape
I punched him in the belly and I gave him a slap
But little did I know the retail manager was strapped

[Verse 4: Gen. Woundwart]
See, you don't know what I got
But I know what you got
Because I give to ya, and even a mouse
I'm the Count Dracula, the true gaffler
Extracting the world of it's elements, claiming to be benevolent
Controlling sentiment within the herds and crews
Using television to spread my worldly views
I gave knowledge that I wanted you to have, no doubt
Then I created a nation who needs help off the fucking couch

[Chorus - Vocal Sample 1:]
From the earliest writings of man
We know that human race has been comprised of the haves and have-nots

[Chorus - Vocal Sample: James Brown - Papa Don't Take no Mess]
You can understand [x2]
A man has to do whatever he can

[Verse 5: Pat Juba]
Backstreet senators generate foul predators
Militant generals audit, credit continual
Habitual, critical beat down, found literal slain
Bullet stains, hot missile with scratched serial
Parallel, embedded niggas in cells
Pharmaceutical cannabis merchandiser
Elijah Muhammad supporter
Hard like amethyst spiritual water
Survivalism for family, five borders
The Karma, highly denting and bruising your armor
For victimless [swarms?] of enemies born to harm ya
Trade tours, perpetrators get backdoored
No allegiance, 'cuz they snitch free with no laws

[Verse 3: Sept Sev Sev Two]
I see smugglers, gamblers, burglars, ramblers
Pickpockets, peddlers, even panhandlers
The UN, MTC, Daytons, Foot Locker, Sam Goody
Hardees, Kenny's Market, Parking Ramps, and Camp Snoopy
Movie theaters, nightclubs, The Mall of America
Record labels, phone companies and Walt Disney characters
Put you all in handcuffs, 'til you all have swollen hands
'Cuz you're all just thieves selling dreams on stolen land

[Vocal Sample: Public Enemy - Hazy Shade of Criminal]
Robbed and stole so many, so much it ain't funny
Now I got'em face on money