(Immortal Technique)
Yeah...
Its Harlem.. (ahahaa)
Tellin' you the other side of the story (yeah!)
Its that serious (let these muthafuckas know!)
The peoples souls are dirty, unworthy
Your words of salvation are murder capital
Clappin' you on random occasions
In the hood the good die young cause death is impatient
The laws are manufactured by one religious denomination
Its fate that I spit, sick psychotic analogies
This is a world where niggas pimp the children and their family
The beast and the false prophet, move closer gradually
Unforgivable sins, satanic bestiality
You got the muthafuckin nerve to point your finger mad at me
Cause' I select to put the world in perspective for clarity
Street hustle ghetto salary, grammatically perfect
Now fuck soundscan, my sound make your faculty nervous
Selfish and worthless, placin' they faith in partisan churches
And too self-righteous to look beyond the curses
So I made it my purpose to purchase space in your brain
And flood the fuckin border with Peruvian cocaine!
While they engineer diseases tryna leave you dead again
Corporate strategy, the profit producing the medicine
My flow is human evolution, savage to elegant
Run up on a nigga, like a military regiment
Cockin' the gat, lock and load, poppin a cap
Making your stomach acid splatter out a hole in your back
Cold on the track, the soul I hold is older than rap
So I can the evil and shitty people across the map (hahahaa)
You thought I wouldn't see you for the devil you are
Fake muthafuckas turn around, tryna be stars
Turn their back on those who used to be fam
Over short money, type you get hustling grams
Fuck outta here'
And when your record label wanna hold your masters, publishing and manage your marketing budget its like...
And when your peeps come home from prison, and can't get a job, then gotta do the same shit, that was the same shit that got them locked up in the first place its like...
And we got our true promoters that put a fuckin gun in a mixtape DJ's mouth just to get him to play a fuckin record that you pressed up yourself and no one else is helping you with, its like..
Yeah.. The people are shit (fuck y'all)
Yeah...
Its Harlem.. (ahahaa)
Tellin' you the other side of the story (yeah!)
Its that serious (let these muthafuckas know!)
The peoples souls are dirty, unworthy
Your words of salvation are murder capital
Clappin' you on random occasions
In the hood the good die young cause death is impatient
The laws are manufactured by one religious denomination
Its fate that I spit, sick psychotic analogies
This is a world where niggas pimp the children and their family
The beast and the false prophet, move closer gradually
Unforgivable sins, satanic bestiality
You got the muthafuckin nerve to point your finger mad at me
Cause' I select to put the world in perspective for clarity
Street hustle ghetto salary, grammatically perfect
Now fuck soundscan, my sound make your faculty nervous
Selfish and worthless, placin' they faith in partisan churches
And too self-righteous to look beyond the curses
So I made it my purpose to purchase space in your brain
And flood the fuckin border with Peruvian cocaine!
While they engineer diseases tryna leave you dead again
Corporate strategy, the profit producing the medicine
My flow is human evolution, savage to elegant
Run up on a nigga, like a military regiment
Cockin' the gat, lock and load, poppin a cap
Making your stomach acid splatter out a hole in your back
Cold on the track, the soul I hold is older than rap
So I can the evil and shitty people across the map (hahahaa)
You thought I wouldn't see you for the devil you are
Fake muthafuckas turn around, tryna be stars
Turn their back on those who used to be fam
Over short money, type you get hustling grams
Fuck outta here'
And when your record label wanna hold your masters, publishing and manage your marketing budget its like...
And when your peeps come home from prison, and can't get a job, then gotta do the same shit, that was the same shit that got them locked up in the first place its like...
And we got our true promoters that put a fuckin gun in a mixtape DJ's mouth just to get him to play a fuckin record that you pressed up yourself and no one else is helping you with, its like..
Yeah.. The people are shit (fuck y'all)
- The 13 Amendments (2009)
- Dance with the Devil
- You Never Know
- The Point of No Return
- Obnoxious
- The 4th Branch
- The Cause of Death
- Leaving the Past
- The Poverty of Philosophy
- Industrial Revolution (Dirty)
- Bin Laden
- Rich Man’s World (1%)
- Peruvian Cocaine
- Harlem Streets
- The 3rd World
- Caught in the Hustle
- Civil War
- The Martyr
- Dominant Species
- Creation & Destruction
- Black Vikings
- Toast to the Dead
- Internally Bleeding
- Angels & Demons
- Natural Beauty