Live and Rare Bullet In The Head - see page 1
Settle For Nothing - see page 1
Bombtrack - see page 1
Take The Power Back - see page 1
Freedom - see page 1
INTRO (BLACK STEEL IN THE HOUR OF CHAOS)-
(intro)
Zack: Hey check this out right about now....
I wanna introduce a brotha...who came all the way outta here
from Long Island, New york. And he's one of the fathers of
revolutionary music in our time period. He was a huge influence
on us and we wanna bring him out right now. So check it out, we
got a man by the name of Chuck D, from Public Enemy. Yeah.
Chuck D: Wassup, wassup! Zack: Yo.... ( x5 )
Chuck D: "I got a letter from the government
The other day
I opened and read it
It said they were suckers
They wanted me for their army or whatever
Picture me given' a damn - I said never
Here is a land that never gave a damn
About a brother like me and myself
Because they never did
I wasn't wit' it, but just that very minute...
It occured to me
The suckers had authority
Cold sweatin' as I dwell in my cell
How long has it been?
They got me sittin' in the state pen
I gotta get out - but that thought was thought before
I contemplated a plan on the cell floor
I'm not a fugitive on the run
But a brother like me begun - to be another one
Public enemy servin' time - they drew the line y'all
To criticize me for some crime - never the less
They could not understand that I'm a Black man
And I could never be a veteran
On the strength, the situation's unreal
I got a raw deal, so I'm goin' for the steel"
Yeah!
Zapata's Blood-
Like they deserve
Wasn't spilt in vein
So now you're pullin' the moves pullin'
the moves pullin' the moves
We'll wage, we'll wage we'll wage war
To replace our name
Some guys got blurred
So now you're pullin' the moves, pullin'
the moves, pullin' the moves
We'll wage, we'll wage, we'll wage war
To reclaim our terrain
On January 1st, 1994
The indigenous farmers of Southern Mexico
Declared war on an unjust
and illigitimate government
Of of the debt of the most wild, the most poor
Came a just arm struggle
for democracy, justice, and liberty
And it won't stop until that 65 year old dictatorship,
the Partido Revolucionario Institucional
(Institutional Revolutionary Party) is buried in the ground
and the people's voicce is heard once again
So check it out:
On January 1st, they became known as
the Zapatista movement
And they have a saying, and I want you all to
sing along with me real quick.
It goes something like this
It goes, everything for everyone...
and nothing for ourselves.
Everything for everyone, and nothing for ourselves.
Everything for everyone, and nothing for ourselves.
Everything for everyone, and nothing for ourselves.
Yeah, sing that shit...
Everything for everyone, and nothing for ourselves.
Everything for everyone, and nothing for ourselves.
Everything for everyone, and nothing for ourselves.
Everything for everyone, and nothing for ourselves...
Without A Face - see page 1
Hadda Be Playing On The Jukebox-
It had to be flashin' like the daily double
It had to be playin' on TV
It had to be loud mouthed on the comedy hour
It had to be announced over loud speakers
The CIA and the Mafia are in cahoots
It had to be said in old ladies' language
It had to be said in American headlines
Kennedy stretched and smiled and got double crossed by lowlife goons and agents
Rich bankers with criminal connections
Dope pushers in CIA working with dope pushers from Cuba working with a
big time syndicate from Tampa, Florida
And it had to be said with a big mouth
It had to be moaned over factory foghorns
It had to be chattered on car radio news broadcasts
It had to be screamed in the kitchen
It had to be yelled in the basement where uncles were fighting
It had to be howled on the streets by newsboys to bus conductors
It had to be foghorned into New York harbor
It had to echo onto hard hats
It had to turn up the volume in university ballrooms
It had to be written in library books, footnoted
It had to be in the headlines of the Times and Le Monde
It had to be barked on TV
It had to be heard in alleys through ballroom doors
It had to be played on wire services
It had to be bells ringing
Comedians stopped dead in the middle of a joke in Las Vegas
It had to be FBI chief J. Edgar Hoover and Frank Costello syndicate
mouthpiece meeting in Central Park, New York weekends,
reported Time magazine
It had to be the Mafia and the CIA together starting war on Cuba,
Bay of Pigs and poison assassination headlines
It had to be dope cops in the Mafia
Who sold all their heroin in America
It had to be the FBI and organized crime working together
in cahoots against the commies
It had to be ringing on multinational cash registers
A world-wide laundry for organized criminal money
It had to be the CIA and the Mafia and the FBI together
They were bigger than Nixon
And they were bigger than war
It had to be a large room full of murder
It had to be a mounted ass- a solid mass of rage
A red hot pen
A scream in the back of the throat
It had to be a kid that can breathe
It had to be in Rockefellers' mouth
It had to be central intelligence, the family, allofthis, the agency Mafia
It had to be organized crime
One big set of gangs working together in cahoots
Hitmen
Murderers everywhere
The secret
The drunk
The brutal
The dirty and rich
On top of a slag heap of prisons
Industrial cancer
Plutonium smog
Garbage cities
Grandmas' bed soft from fathers' resentment
It had to be the rulers
They wanted law and order
And they got rich on wanting protection for the status quo
They wanted junkies
They wanted Attica
They wanted Kent State
They wanted war in Indochina
yeah
It had to be the CIA and the Mafia and the FBI
Multinational capitalists
Strong armed squads
Private detective agencies for the oh so very rich
And their armies and navies and their air force bombing planes
It had to be capitalism
The vortex of this rage
This competition
Man to man
The horses head in a capitalists' bed
The Cuban turf
It rumbles in hitmen
And gang wars across oceans
Bombing Cambodia settled the score when Soviet pilots
manned Egyptian fighter planes
Chiles' red democracy
Bumped off with White House pots and pans
A warning to Mediterranean governments
The secret police have been embraced for decades
The NKPD and CIA keep each other's secrets
The OGBU and DIA never hit their own
The KGB and the FBI are one mind
Brute force and full of money
Brute force, world-wide, and full of money
Brute force, world-wide, and full of money
Brute force, world-wide, and full of money
Brute force, world-wide, and full of money
It had to be rich and it had to be powerful
They had to murder in Indonesia 500000
They had to murder in Indochina 2000000
They had to murder in Czechoslovakia
They had to murder in Chile
They had to murder in Russia
And they had to murder in America.
Yeah!
Fuck The Police-
Good Evening,
We want to just quickly send a nice friendly message
to uh, Fraternal Order of Police in Philadelphia.
Here's something nice and friendly,
Here's something nice and friendly,
Here's something nice and friendly,
and it goes something like this.
Fuck tha police,
Comin straight from the underground.
Young nigga got it bad cuz I'm brown,
And not the other color so police think,
They have the authority to kill a minority.
Fuck that shit, cuz I ain't tha one,
For a punk mutha fucka with a badge and a gun,
To be beatin on, and throwin in jail.
We could go toe to toe in the middle of a cell.
Fuckin with me cuz I'm a teenager,
With a little bit of gold and a pager.
Searchin my car, lookin for the product.
Thinkin every nigga is sellin narcotics.
You'd rather see me in the pen,
Then me and Lorenzo chilling in the Benzo.
Beat tha police outta shape,
And when I'm finished, bring the yellow tape,
To mark off the scene of the slaughter.
No controller, bread and water.
A young nigga on a warpath,
And when I'm finished, it's gonna be a bloodbath,
Of cops, dyin in L. A.
Yo, I got somethin to say.
Fuck the police,
Comon! Off, What?
Fuck the police,
Yeah!
Comon!
Fuck tha police,
Yeah.
Fuck The police,
Comin straight from the underground.
Young nigga got it bad cuz I'm brown,
And not the other color so police think,
They have the authority to kill a minority.
Fuck that shit, cuz I ain't tha one,
For a punk mutha fucka with a badge and a gun,
To be beatin on, and throwin in jail.
We could go toe to toe in the middle of a cell.
Fuckin with me cuz I'm a teenager,
With a little bit of gold and a pager.
Searchin my car, lookin for the product.
Thinkin every nigga is sellin narcotics.
You'd rather see me in the pen,
Then me and Lorenzo chilling in the Benzo.
Beat tha police outta shape,
And when I'm finished, bring the yellow tape,
To mark off the scene of the slaughter.
No controller, bread and water.
I don't know if they fags or what,
Search a nigga down and grabbin in the nuts.
And on the other hand, without a gun they can't get none.
But don't let it be a black and a white one.
Cuz they slam ya down to the street top,
Black police showin out for the white cop.
Yeah, my brothas will swarm,
On any mutha fucka in a blue uniform.
Just cuz we in Washington D.C, punk police are afraid of me.
Hey!
Punk on a warpath,
And when I'm finished, it's gonna be a bloodbath,
Of cops, dyin in L. A.
Hey yo, We got somethin to say.
Fuck the police,
Comon, sing that shit,
Right now,
Comon!
Comon!
One more time,
Here we go, here we go,
Comon!
One More, We gotta do it, right now,
Yeah,
Check it out.
Darkness-
Greed!
Causing innocent blood to flow
Entire culture, lost in the overthrow
They came to seize and take whatever they please
Then all they gave back was death and disease
My people were left with no choice but to decide
To conform to a system, responsible for genocide
Responsible for genocide
Responsible for genocide...
Spoken:
'AIDS is killing the entire African nation
And a vaccine is still supposedly under preparation
But these governments they don't mind the procrastination
They say "We'll kill them off, take their land and go there for vaction.'
My people's culture was strong, it was pure
And if not for that white greed
It would've endured
My people were left with no choice but to decide
To conform to a system
Their minds enslaved
Their souls encaged
I feel the rage
It's brutality can never be undone
But the sun is not yet set
The bass and drums and microphones a threat
That's when ya investigate the crimes from the inside
And see that they're responsible for genocide
Responsible for genocide
Responsible for genocide...
Ya cram ya culture down my throat
Say I'm inferior when I find that I choke
Ya fill my mind with a false sense of history
And then you wonder why I have no identity?
Well I'll strike a match and it'll catch and
Spread the insight we need
A tiny fire, burning bright
Shedding light on the darkness of greed
A yes yes y'all
And ya don't stop
Shedding light on the darkness of greed
A yes yes y'all
And ya don't stop
Shedding light on the darkness of greed.
Yeah!
Clear The Lane-
Hey yo!
Let me be front
This is real and not a stunt
I'm comin' to the forefront
Shovel for the rapper and clear the lane
'Cos this jam is like a tomahawk chop
Teach ya I'll never stop droppin' topics
Vocal power?
(a)yes I got it
On central but their trying to clamp it down
Flag was waving the wrong way so I shot it...down!
Get down, and at the same time...
Come up...down!
This is a crime that shut us up
I don't give a fuck
'Cos the words and the thoughts still hit
And like I said
It's not a skit
Jump another hit
Yeah
Ya know I don't need a drum kit
Make 'em say awwww shit!
The rebellion is true and legit
Down! Get down!...and clear the lane
Down! Get down!...and clear the lane
Down! Get down!...and clear the land
Down! Get down!...yeah!
The rebel
You'll never disable
Defiance
With the cards upon the table
Pulling cards
Keep the governements in check
Yo!
I think we need a new deck
Never could trust a phillabusta'
The mic is like a fist and it'll bust ya
With words cold hittin' with the underground
And now you're checkin' out the new sound
Live hit
A live pop
Live rock
And ya don't stop
It goes on and on and on
Who's a threat?
C'mon, the war is on!
Down! Get down!...and clear the lane
Down! Get down!...and clear the lane
Down! Get down!...and clear the lane
Down! Get down!...and clear the lane
(guitar solo)
Start droppin'
Our words are never safe
Fighting myself
'Till I'm where I gotta be
I challange, don't sweat it
Now don't you forget it
Check me? What? Wait
You better slow down!
Realize I can't confine my rhyme to a beat
I need cash so when I'm cool I'm never ever weak
Places are fluid and diluted and complete
Check me once, calm down and take a seat
Strip the chains the freedom's there but then it's gone!
Ugh...clear the lane
Ugh...clear the lane
Ugh...clear the lane
Ugh...clear the lane
Defiance
Rippin' up the south set
Every time I'm grippin' the mic it is a sound threat
Resist against the suckers that bring the bass in
Timmy C
Bring that bass in!
Ugh...clear the lane
Ugh...clear the lane
Ugh...clear the lane
Ugh...clear the lane
