Released: June 26, 2007
Songwriter: Pharoahe Monch
Producer: Davel “Bo” McKenzie
[Intro]
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Free, free, free, free
Free, free, free, free
Free, free, free, free
Free, free, free, free
[Chorus: Pharoahe Monch]
You can clip my wings, shackle and chain me
Back straight, standing tall, a child of God, and I'm free
Spit in my face, hold me down
I'mma keep my feet firm to the ground, 'cause I'm free
[Verse 1: Pharoahe Monch]
Yeah, your A&R's a house nigga, the label's the plantation
Now switch that advance for your emancipation
MC's in the field like pick cotton for real
I pop blocks like Beat Street with a notch and a kill
They take the strongest of slaves to compete in a track meet
For the king of the city sang songs of back streets
Choruses of cocaine tales and black heat
Only to trade niggas like professional athletes
Don't take that merchandising, snatch that publishing
Package that black ass, ship you to London
By way of France, Germany, Dublin
A railroad to underground like Harriet Tubman
While ya'll stay struggling, we smuggle MCs through the streets
'Til we bubbling on mix CDs, hustling
Klan see me on the block and say, "Freeze!"
I say, "Fuck you! I'm a man, I'm free"
[Chorus: Pharoahe Monch]
You can clip my wings, shackle and chain me
Back straight, standing tall, a child of God, and I'm free
Spit in my face, hold me down
I'mma keep my feet firm to the ground, 'cause I'm free
[Verse 2: Pharoahe Monch]
Okay, yo, I give birth to verses in churches with no confession
So please pardon my post-partum depression
A-list MC to spit it in C-Sections
For immature minds that get it with each lesson
Three-fifths of a man, ass jigga with no plans
How you discussing publishing figures without a band?
They got digital codes on our music for them to scan
So even when you sample a snare, you paying the Klan
So Google Pharoahe Monch, search triskadecaphobia
I'll explain why these city banks watch over ya
I'll peep the future in my sleep, to be honest, man
We never had a mutual relationship with Washington
Why? Because I believe they put the virus in the latex
Condoms that they sell us, call it safe sex
What I spit, not only causes a glitch in The Matrix
But another listed terror threat that they ain't even faced yet
[Chorus: Pharoahe Monch]
You can clip my wings, shackle and chain me
Back straight, standing tall, a child of God, and I'm free
Spit in my face, hold me down
I'mma keep my feet firm to the ground, 'cause I'm free
[Outro: St Juste]
You can clip my wings, shackle and chain me
Back straight, standing tall, a child of God, and I'm free
No, you can't define it
You're blinded by the light when I rock the mic, 'cause I'm free
Got you sick with emotions, drink this potion
DJ, MC, free, like the thief in the night
Brown skin, ready to win if you're prepared to fight
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Free, free, free, free
Free, free, free, free
Free, free, free, free
Free, free, free, free
[Chorus: Pharoahe Monch]
You can clip my wings, shackle and chain me
Back straight, standing tall, a child of God, and I'm free
Spit in my face, hold me down
I'mma keep my feet firm to the ground, 'cause I'm free
[Verse 1: Pharoahe Monch]
Yeah, your A&R's a house nigga, the label's the plantation
Now switch that advance for your emancipation
MC's in the field like pick cotton for real
I pop blocks like Beat Street with a notch and a kill
They take the strongest of slaves to compete in a track meet
For the king of the city sang songs of back streets
Choruses of cocaine tales and black heat
Only to trade niggas like professional athletes
Don't take that merchandising, snatch that publishing
Package that black ass, ship you to London
By way of France, Germany, Dublin
A railroad to underground like Harriet Tubman
While ya'll stay struggling, we smuggle MCs through the streets
'Til we bubbling on mix CDs, hustling
Klan see me on the block and say, "Freeze!"
I say, "Fuck you! I'm a man, I'm free"
[Chorus: Pharoahe Monch]
You can clip my wings, shackle and chain me
Back straight, standing tall, a child of God, and I'm free
Spit in my face, hold me down
I'mma keep my feet firm to the ground, 'cause I'm free
[Verse 2: Pharoahe Monch]
Okay, yo, I give birth to verses in churches with no confession
So please pardon my post-partum depression
A-list MC to spit it in C-Sections
For immature minds that get it with each lesson
Three-fifths of a man, ass jigga with no plans
How you discussing publishing figures without a band?
They got digital codes on our music for them to scan
So even when you sample a snare, you paying the Klan
So Google Pharoahe Monch, search triskadecaphobia
I'll explain why these city banks watch over ya
I'll peep the future in my sleep, to be honest, man
We never had a mutual relationship with Washington
Why? Because I believe they put the virus in the latex
Condoms that they sell us, call it safe sex
What I spit, not only causes a glitch in The Matrix
But another listed terror threat that they ain't even faced yet
[Chorus: Pharoahe Monch]
You can clip my wings, shackle and chain me
Back straight, standing tall, a child of God, and I'm free
Spit in my face, hold me down
I'mma keep my feet firm to the ground, 'cause I'm free
[Outro: St Juste]
You can clip my wings, shackle and chain me
Back straight, standing tall, a child of God, and I'm free
No, you can't define it
You're blinded by the light when I rock the mic, 'cause I'm free
Got you sick with emotions, drink this potion
DJ, MC, free, like the thief in the night
Brown skin, ready to win if you're prepared to fight