“Do You Believe?”

Posted on October 16, 2012

(A #KZHS Interactive Hip-Hop Experience)


“Do You Believe”

Lyrics by K. Ziruolo

Music: The Beatnuts “Do You Believe” instrumental

(Click for music; lyrics begin at 0:23)


[Verse 1]

Is your part of the county desolate like a western?

Live a life of anxiety and stress; my chest hurts

Got a best friend with a gun? Well, I suggest you go text em

There’s a storm brewing outside like tornadoes in Texas

Chasing business ventures; I’d kill on The Apprentice

Think I lost my shot when the Times clenched fist us

Hard to draw an income if you’re not secretly connected

People standing in the street; the job market’s horrendous

Do you believe everything the evening news mentions?

Being fitted for a box; they just needed dimensions

Our biggest priorities; fly gear and extensions

No need for a pension if you’re stuck in corrections

This can’t be life; state of animated suspension

The U.S. map now divided to ten sections

Take up a gun collection before the Army’s intervention

I don’t mean genocide; more like self-protection



I’m a free man in America so fuck what you think

I unwind like a Senator; a cigar and a drink

A proud gun owner who would defend it in a blink

I’m not quite over the edge, but I reside on the brink

I’m registered to vote when the polling place opens

The choices at this point look a shite site hopeless

Nearly half America on food stamps or homeless

Somebody tell me where the punch line in the joke is?

[Verse 2]


So pissed off at the system for every wrong done possible

The problem isn’t race; it’s always economical

Mitt bought up your company; your neighbors fall like dominoes

And Obama’s no better; whole thing’s pretty comical

Got followers out there I trust more than best friends

Get mean when the time comes to justify the ends

The population never as stand-up as it pretends

Point a finger at you if it will keep them out the pen


Don’t give em the satisfaction; tell the cops to play Tetris

Their superiors bring the dope in; their judges convict us

Never flip or spill the beans like a Mexican gymnast

 Or end up in a field; a dead headless fed witness

Go check the court’s records; I’ve never been a defendant

Need a script of Vicodin? Go ask your damn dentist

Never sell off anything that you can’t get replenished

Disability checks coming in for all your dependents



Like a GPS, my reach is mufti-directional

Stay home like a priest does in the church’s confessional

Produce new art daily for the creative professionals

Start off with some of the finest luxuries accessible

Your one-of-a-kind piece is going to be exceptional

Engrave the whole Ferrari if a client wants to pay me to

Paint a scene in a swimming pool like your favorite director do

Mixed media art, but the theme is always you

[Verse 3]


The Sowest radio show; I get loose

Letting Dusah know daily that I’m penning the truth

Call up Monday and Thursday to spit my bars through

When my cordless phone dies; nothing more I can do


And fuck Tom Cruise

We all think you are gay and that your marriage was a ruse

Maybe like Travolta; the witnesses got confused

I better shut my damn mouth before I get sued

And I’d be happy to incur the fees

For reckless talk; watch me turn it into currency

No blood from stones, but especially not from me

Mission impossible; better bark up someone else’s tree

Flying under the radar, but still high as a quasar

Finances in ruins, still better off than they are

I hear you mention swag; better turn on the gaydar

You ever seen Deer Slayer? Squeeze twice like Cesar



Do you believe everything the talking heads tell you?

Psychopaths in charge like they just got out of Bellvue

Standing on the street corner admiring Hell’s view

The system’s rigged to benefit a select few

Landlord in the sky; the feds are paying rent

Don’t even bother asking how the taxes got spent

Documents have been forged to account for every cent

Real villains insulated better than ten elephants



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