faster than you know

, heeeey. oooooh yeah, hee-eeey, faster than you know, love will only make you grow, and free yoooooou, don't be scared to show, why don't you just let it flow?, and heal yoooooou, - uh! yeah, spook clique!, there's a lotta fans sayin' they'll die for us, but where's the fans tryin'a live for us?, for real, clean up the block and raise some kids for us, 'cos we don't need you gettin' high and doin' bids for us, and listen up close all my wannabe thugs, the realest warriors was always motivated by love, they used their strength to rise above the violence and the drugs, then went home and gave they queens and they kids hugs, if you wanna be free, released from the unrest, the stress and the emptiness just follow me, help me break down this wall of hypocrisy, and we can rise up and fufill prophecy, faster than a shot of light to ya ground shot, love, can help ya breathe and make the pain stop, love, can open eyes and make the chains drop, and that's my word - from the fire to the raindrops, yo, yo, some dudes are fakin', off-stage a "wanksta", displayin' they prankster, claimin' they gansgter, naww! all the real thugs are dead or in jail, sweatin' in cells, your man is now madamoiselle, we laughin' at rell, runnin' round yellin " society fell", with two fakes and chewin' on nails, and castin' too hard when explainin' feelings, playin' wit' they children, vexin' our women, then flexin' as villains, i'm not buyin' so save the nonsense, you paid to lie in confidence, a made man, but in the fabricated sense, you gotta hear with the intent to benefit, and feel when you repent, to never sell your soul up in cement, time is well spent when you present, the love over to rock like 'em ornaments, so stop with the foolishness!, the love movement, we explored, and brought to you, spooks sittin' by the door, yo, these self-proclaimed kings of writing songs, ain't concerned with the distinction between right and wrong, through love we face hate, it's barely a surprise, that the truth tastes great to a belly full of lies, mainland villains wit' your gangland killin', get that same gland fillin' from gang your man's still in, the mic is attract swarms of frivalous fans, usin' devilous plans, they decieve and expand, their influence 'cos looks at what takes precedence, pockets are desolate, but you rock a ridiculous neck-a-lace, competin' with mrs. jones, completes the message sent to these kids through wicked poems, i stick it to 'em and re-inform, poeticly, no credit for bein' calm, theoretically be at arms, and fightin' if need be, on a mission, exposin' the malnutrition globe-ified on tv, so, -