Released: November 18, 2003

Songwriter: Immortal Technique

Producer: Danja

[Verse 1]
I never make songs to disrespect women
Or to judge people about the way that they're livin'
But the way I am is based on the life I was given
Like them white boys, losin' my religion
I used to be a Christian and a political pawn
The Bible is right and all your native culture is wrong
Next thing you know you tellin' me 'bout makin' a song
Come in the studio, and tell me that I'm makin' it wrong
Pissed off 'cause reality is makin' us strong
Like the ghost of Timothy McVeigh makin' a bomb
Ayo, Marvin Gaye, what the fuck is goin' on?
These rap niggas made propaganda out of your song
But it's the Gong Show, amateur night at the Apollo
My dick is like my music but harder to swallow
So, children, follow me, like the Pied Piper
And sing the chorus in the air, with your blunt and your lighter

[Hook]
You played yourself thinkin' you're down with me
I end your life, nigga, don't fuck around with me
And if you kids can't listen, then you're bound to see
The way you get shot for crossin' the boundary
You played yourself thinkin' you're down with me
I end your life, nigga, don't fuck around with me
And if you kids can't listen, then you're bound to see
The way you get shot for crossin' the boundary

[Verse 2]
The second verse is worse than the first in this respect
Scripted specifically to keep people in check
Harlem to Boston, real niggas spit with me
But Landspeed, you ain't fuckin' shit to me
And underground labels know that I don't trust you
You're only independent 'til you're major, so fuck you!
And if you're pissed off 'cause you think that I dissed you
I'll rape your moms so we can make this a personal issue
Dance with the Devil, remember that you're not on my level
Stupid, you're not ready
I won Disypher, Bragging Rights from Rocksteady
And practically every battle that they got in New York
And I still murder rappers on the street for sport
Doctor Guillotine cuttin' you short, little man
But you don't give me props, 'cause I never won at Scribble Jam
Well, fuck you! I hope someone you love dies
So, fuck your crew! And fuck your family, too!
Technique said it, bitch, what the fuck you gonna do?

[Hook]
You played yourself thinkin' you're down with me
I end your life, nigga, don't fuck around with me
And if you kids can't listen, then you're bound to see
The way you get shot for crossin' the boundary
You played yourself thinkin' you're down with me
I end your life, nigga, don't fuck around with me
And if you kids can't listen, then you're bound to see
The way you get shot for crossin' the boundary

[Interlude]
Yeah, wrap it up on these niggas!
Wrap it up, yeah!

[Verse 3]
Immortal Technique incinerates degenerate fags
Burn Trent Lott wrapped in his Confederate flag
I got the Beretta with my face wrapped in a rag
So put the African slave jewelry in the bag
Motherfuckers tell me that a diamond is forever
But is it worth the blood of Malcolm and Medgar Evers?
House niggas, get your head severed, tryin' to be thug
You don't concern me, I'm tryin' to hurt the people you love
Word of mouth is I'm in the club, bein' sneaky
I'm like the body snatchers, and your girl is gettin' sleepy
I murder you indiscreetly, right at the source
Like the Roman Legionnaire that stabbed Christ on the cross
This is about you, though; it ain't about Jesus
And you shouldn't fuckin' talk about telekenesis
Nigga, please, movin' shit with your mind
Try movin' your moms out the projects with your rhymes
And next time, I'm comin' after cualquiera
Profanity, fuckin' carajo maldita mierda!
Roll up the hierba, y pasala, para la izquierda
Put the price up to listen to me pop shit
'Cause I got Martha Stewart givin' me stock tips
Underground money with honeys up in the whip
Bangbus.com, nigga, fuckin' your bitch

[Outro]
Yeah, played yourself, nigga, fuck all of y'all!
You don't know shit about me
Why open your mouth and discuss who the fuck I am?
I thought I told y'all niggas on Volume One
I wasn't fuckin' around, you just slept
'Cause you sold a few thousand units in the golden era
When niggas would buy anything on the shelf
But those days are through, and you are through with them

Immortal Technique

Immortal Technique is an American rapper and urban activist of Afro-Peruvian descent. He was born in Lima, Peru and raised in Harlem, NY.

Most of his lyrics are focused on controversial issues in global politics. The views expressed in his lyrics are largely commentary on issues such as class struggle, poverty, religion, government and institutional racism.

Immortal Technique has voiced a desire to retain control over his production, and has stated in his music that record companies, not artists themselves, profit the most from mass production and marketing of music.