Around our nation's capital There's a freeway 8 lanes wide White concrete ringed around the city For those who want inside Get on get off Ignore everything to the sides In your midst I drive While homeboys in the back of the van make drugs Wanna hide something like a crack lab Just put it in plain sight Only stop to refuel and unload More poison to tear more lives apart Gang wars like never before Better lock your doors, buy some guns And pray (prey?) for martial law On the Washington D.C. Beltway Around and around I go In the black van with no windows And a chimney puffing smoke Bloody headlines in the news each day Drug "crisis" everywhere So much comes in so easy It's as though someone wants it there It would be a little obvious To fence off all the slums Hand out machine guns to the poor in the projects And watch 'em kill each other off A more subtle genocide is when The only hope for the young Is to join the Army and slowly die Wall Street or Crack Dealer Avenue The last roads left to the American Dream Wall Street or Crack Dealer Avenue Wall Street or Crack Dealer Avenue Only on road leads to this neighborhood Little kids wanna sell drugs when they grow up The folks might get just a little upset If they knew where that dope comes from From Columbia to the Contras To our Air Force bases, where we trade it for guns The moral equivalent of a serial killer And his CIA friends Call the shots from the White House But now that we own the media too Those stories just aren't run