| Lyrics: | featuring Channel Live
Knowledge where the people at?
Free Mumia!
Channel Live! (KRS One come and represent)
(The wisdom)
Hah hah hah hah hah hahaha!
Free Mumia!
Everywhere I look there's another house negro
Talkin
about they people and how they should be equal
They talkin but the conversation ain't goin
nowhere
You can't diss hip hop so don't you even go there
C. Delores Tucker you
wanna quote the scripture
Everytime you hear nigga, listen up sista
Verse
One: Hakim, KRS, Tuffy
I met up with this girl named Delores, a prankster
I
said I MC, she said, "You're a gangster"
But she was caught up, she hit the floor like a
breakdance
Wrapped her up like the arms in a b-boy stance
Recognize moms I'm one of
your sons I'm hip-hop
in the form of Channel Live and KRS-One
Representin MC's
across America
She said, "You're the one who be causin all that mass hysteria"
Wisdom shall come out of the mouths of babes and sucklings
But you blinded by
cultural ignorance and steady judging
But judge not, lest ye may be judged
For the
judgment ye judge ye shall surely be judged, you gets no love
She said, "I like it,
that's why I jock it"
Then I said, "You only on my back because I fill brother's pockets"
Got em drivin Benzes Jeeps and Rolls Royces
Attackin me will leave youth with no
voices
The choice is yours not mine hang with me
I'll have you freestyle and bombin
graffiti
We can cut it up like like wax
Claimin I cause violence but America was
violent before rap, FACT
Chorus: KRS-One
Warner, Elektra, Atlantic
equals WEA
Instead of fighting them why don't you go free Mumia
(repeat 2X)
Verse Two: Tuffy, KRS, Hakim
Wild recital, I kicks the vital, like the _Final
Call_ as I watch, Babylon fall
I had to Rush Limbaugh, get that pig with an axe
Tuffy dips to the side, buckin cannons that's phat
Because he censors the uses of the
metaphor
You can get the dick bum up
Because it's you that brings the, real
horrorcore
Expenditures forgettin, gut from the poor
Why sure! Back before
we were born they sold us out
Yeah Dade Jackson we know what you about
Youse a Slave
Mason, not a Free Mason
Before long the Goddess Tiamat through hip-hop you'll be facin
Don't start me, cause I be the, lyricist
At the nineteen ninety-nine millenium party
held at Giza
Sayin he's a, fraud, oh my Goddess
Never in your life should you
disrespect an artist
Instead, focus your attention on astronomy
And the up and
coming, shift in the economy
If you can't do that, then heed the final call
To free
Mumia, Abu-Jamal
Hate to be so rough, it could be the White Owls
House
niggaz are full of crap, like my Colin Powell
Kickin vowels, is how we relieve the tension
Until we start to bounce white people like suspension (revolution)
You paint the
pictures, the black man on the corner
But tell me, who blew up Oklahoma?
The City,
ain't no pity, for the beast
It's Hakim that voice from the East
Chorus
Verse Three: KRS, Hakim, Tuffy
Buck buck! Buck buck buck!
It
sound like gunshots but it could be the plot
of a chicken, definition, is what you're missin
and
listen to your children instead of dissin em
Senator Dole doesn't understand the
young people
Like they be sayin want to, but we be sayin wanna
They gettin dumber
every summer as they walk the rope
Maybe because they cannot understand the quotes
Word, in actuality, this Norman Bates mentality
always seems to represent, minus
three-sixty percent
For degrees full circle, dead from the purple
rays of the sun I
gots melanin so check it
Bag your nuts quick or get sick from being naked
Suspect
it, was it a means for the end
For just a few to drive the Benz while you eat the pigskins
Turned you into mannequins, cause the trick of technology
A revelation, revalations
Sensation gives me inspiration of revolution
That's my solution, there will be no
sequels
I'm audi hundred forty four thousand with my people
From Caligula to
Hitler, now it's Schwartzeneggar
A lust for the violence is the science of their behavior
Who enslaved ya (it's the Devil) but the God of virtuosity
And of the world created,
could it be mental sodomy
Got my mind twisted like the blades of fonta leaf
I sit in
disbelief as he crawls underneath
the rock cock back the glock, cause I don't trust
the Devil I rebel until Babylon is dust
Chorus |
