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| KRS-One Krs-One Free Mumia 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 equal 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 J. 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 God Cause 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 (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 sallysally@usa.net |
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