"[1]

This one for the niggas

The ones that was called that descriptor

When they was delivered

Out there in Virginia

The ones ever since who have taken the care to defend the

People surrendered from coast to the coast to the cold and the whip of the lash

I never lived it, but I’ll tell now…

Boy it’s familiar

Said, boy, it’s familiar

For the gangs with the chains on they hands and they ankles it ain't just a sankofa song

For the Kings, whether Martin or Rodney, who knew it unlikely but asked could we all get along!

For the answer we know to that question that keep us a little suspicious

We ain't the first that have wished it

We ain't the first ones to get it

Said, boy, it's familiar

For the mothers, the daughters, the sisters

Who don't get attention but often are victims

So they suffer in silence from all kinds of violence

And try as they might we don't listen

For the beatings, the treatment, the rapings, the hangings and lynchings

I hope that we can be forgiven

I never lived it, but boy, it's familiar

Say, boy, it’s familiar

All black on my windows

Pistol under my pillow

If I'm an activist, I'm no pacifist

I'm just keeping shit real, though

I ain't turning a blind eye

And I ain't expecting no heroes

I ain't pressing no 911

But I ain't living in fear, though

[Hook]

Now what?

The same shit. The same shit

Now what?

The same shit. The same shit

Now what?

The same shit. The same shit

Now what? The same shit

Now what? The same shit

Boy, it's familiar

Mess with them boys, and they kill you

Then get a lawyer to deal with

Annoying appeals to

The public to show 'em they did 'em

A favor destroying a villain

No, you ain't living

If you know you ain't living

But seconds away from a sentence

Making a way for a system

You die or they take you to prison

Take what they know you ain't giving

[2]

This one for the niggas

Who just got from prison

Or on they way, stuck on the ave

Hustle from morning to evening for things that they need

Or the things they can have

City's so cold, that you gotta fend for yourself, they compare it to Iraq

‘cause it’s a war that we live in

Imagine the war when our children say “Boy, it’s familiar."

For the gangs and the fame

And the whips and the chains

And the game that we play through the pain

That we drench ourselves in when we win

Since we win at the game then it seems we should call it Champ Pain

Elevated—we taking the L but we winning

‘cause we still living

Living through pain, but we living

Giving through strain, but we giving

Boy, it’s familiar

For the mothers, the daughters, the sisters

We don't give attention but often are victims

We inflict them with violence

And tell them to suffer in silence, so why would we listen?

For the beatings, the treatment, the rapings, the hangings and lynchings

I hope we can be forgiven

I hope we can be forgiven

Boy, it's familiar

All black on my windows

Pistol under my pillow

If I'm an activist, I'm no pacifist

I'm just keeping shit real, though

I ain't turning a blind eye

And I ain't expecting no heroes

I ain't pressing no 911

But I ain't living in fear, though

[Hook]

Now what?

The same shit. The same shit

Now what?

The same shit. The same shit

Now what?

The same shit. The same shit

Now what? The same shit

Now what? The same shit

Boy, it's familiar

Mess with them boys, and they kill you

Then get a lawyer to deal with

Annoying appeals to

The public to show 'em they did 'em

A favor destroying a villain

No, you ain't living

If you know you ain't living

But seconds away from a sentence

Making a way for a system

You die or they take you to prison

Take what they know you ain't giving.”