Verse 1: Chuck D
All I wanna do is get paid back
for all that time I spent in the back
Livin in shacks fillin up sacks of cotton
Now it's what we fought you're makin six packs
There's some got our hope out of control
of my soul pass the Ol' Gold
Behold the pale horse Supreme Court
Sweatin niggas like sports
Hunt a nigga for sport
See a nigga play sports no support
On the outside lookin in
If that's what's up then I ain't never been in style then
Everything is anything, anything is upbeat of nothing
Once again, poisoned from the paper and pen
You better defend that bullshit on the other end
Fuck your own thing, if your own thing's the wrong thing
Fuck dem chicken wings
Last able man standing
Follow what? I ain't understanding
What's better to understand then be misunderstood?
Cos the FBI is up to no good
Power to the peeps who come with their own drum
And don't end up like sheep
(*Kill!*) (*Kill Em Live!*)
*repeat x3*
Verse 2: Chuck D
Mad heads confused by the isms
Bustin caps incoginisms
Phone taps, makin sure they record ya
>From my midnight plane to Georgia, uhh
Ancient to ???? player
The life giver, the name take-awayer
Propaganda can't gasp the last man standing
Assassinate all the plannin
Get wreck, what you see is what you get
To plunder more stars than Trek
21st Century Robin Hood
I guess the politics are robbin hoods
Fuck the Government cos you know that I would
Cos the FBI is up to no good
Power to the peeps who come with their own drum
And don't end up like sheep
