No Rest For The Weary

there's no rest for the weary, just another day grinding up stones
'til they turn into dust, it's tough times in the rough
diamonds ain't enough to cover up a corrupted and fucked up
legacy of strange food, bloody whips and small pox, trigger happy cops,
barbed wire and fire water, y'all it don't stop
when the colonizer came with the cross and the sword,
I threw the first spear and said "I declare war!"
I'm a battle scar-wearin' heir apparent,
descendant of a long lineage of proletariat and peasant

so check the work ethic in the name
the lessons might change, but the essence of the message is the same
so when they say anything, say "why is it?"
class is in session 'til the teacher gets a pink slip

I ride the rhythm, imbibe a little wine talk
head get the concrete to line with your spine
I speak to find peace, but it's war all the time
it's deep like the drive from Renton to Shoreline
I'm a more mindful guy ever since finding out that
I'm about to be a father, and doubt is not an option
and now I can't be getting crunked and faded as often
so get your hands dirty, 'cause a prayer ain't enough, boss
what cross? we got crucified by buckshots
one million Jesuses and Judas got his nuts off
pages, torn out the memory of those who remain
shackled with the chains of international capital gain
they claim civilized, but they animal ways
peace to Oakland, I've never been a fan of the A's
but some days you can find me inscribing my
soul on the page, every crime has an alibi
disciplined and organized, is how I handle my
jacks are spending mad time on their battle rhymes
I can't knock it if you find it entertaining
I rep those whose labor ain't compensated

so check the work ethic in the name
the lessons might change, but the essence of the message is the same
so when they say anything, say "why is it?"
class is in session 'til the teacher gets a pink slip

forty to a class, no wonder we're delinquent
half the school district never make it to commencement
I bend the spine of the track until it snaps
pop's working overtime and he got a broken back
got three little sisters, one brother in Iraq
and ma prays novenas to keep the fam intact
but the song ain't a psalm waiting for God to answer
brothers call me dog, they got the letters backwards
I'm back with a plan of attack to repossess my name, face and history, y'all
who wanna test my capacity to spit caliber shit into a rhythmic lesson
and edutainment it's a legitimate weapon
igniting the cipher sessions, I'm deciphering life,
and blending both theory and into practice
I write vernacular, and actual fact, God, no posturin'
a thousand pointing fingers, I defied every one of 'em
I ride for my brethren who carry the burden,
of a future uncertain 'til the fall of the curtain, you better move
hold your head high soldier, it ain't over yet
that's why we call it a struggle, you're supposed to sweat

so check the work ethic in the name
the lessons might change, but the essence of the message is the same
so when they say anything, say "why is it?"
class is in session 'til the teacher gets a pink slip

crazy landlady tried to switch up on the lease
if she raises up the rent again it's time to say peace
peace, peace, and that's my piece
it's still all about the bullet in the belly of the beast
from the east, my brother, we came

the lessons might change, but the essence of the message is the same
so when they say anything, say "why is it?"
class is in session 'til the teacher gets a pink slip

so keep marching 'til your feet split open
no rest for the weary, blue scholars keep goin'