Lyrics:

Allow me to break down the game behind the bracelets, earings, chains, watches and rings
The bling the crystal-encrusted,princess-flooded , canary-studded, blue-colored, and blood-stained
Yea, the olda' brotha' of the drug game, the giver a fame and take away the a-lame
The empowerer of the Kings that came with claims and disease to leave where the native people were stained
Believe my engagement ring recieve the floss at the cost of a bonded child minus pain
Long ago kings used to wear them in their armor when they fought other armies because it used to scare 'em
If you wasn't rich couldn't wear 'em, witches used to marry 'em, they'll shoot you before they share 'em
The gift and the Curse, the Venom and the serum, most hated ladies best friends get murked for a clear one

Cecil Rhodes sold woe and genocide into the country side just to get his shine on
I feared what DeBeers and his peers used to do before the world really knew just to get they mind on
Makin' paper with slave labor and hittin' lil' kids with lifetime bids makin' em cut and shine stones
Inflatin' the price and makin' em look nice and i wasn't thinkin' twice when i was puttin' mine on
About a young shorty in Sierra Leone, or other conflict countries that people call home
I figured i would never go to Angola, so it never did effect me that maybe indirectly,
That my necklace was fundin' a rebellion or a military coup
Started by militias that dont believe in followin' none of geneva's rules
I was brushin off the haters, tryna be cool
Didnt have a clue that the rapper was helpin' the rapers, raiders of the villages, pillagers of the schools
Shooters of the innocent, torturers of the witnesses, burners of the businesses and my bracelet was the fuel (Do you hear me?!)
I aint pushin' an agenda homie, im just pushin' the facts - Fuck Bush -
Cause there's people doin worse on this earth and they black, i took it there, yea, now let me bring it back
We all know on foreign shores that they finance wars but ask yourself do they finance yours?
When i first got mine, i took them out on tour
Didnt know they lost have the value when i took them out the store
Oh, it was full of moissanites and cubix
But the jeweler knew i was stupid, and that i couldnt prove it
Feelin' like i need it, cuz i do music
To impress the groupies, and the interviewers
So i didnt appraise, nor did i loop it
Even gave 'em to my girl, thinkin' i was cupid
Homies was on hate, hopin' they could make me lose it
Creepin' through my own hood, knew i had to remove it
I see the Russian mafia, the Jewish mobsters, the undercover terrorist, and the traps for the hustlers
Homie its a rap for the nonsense rhymin'
Props to Kanye, I call it Conflict Diamonds....