Songwriter: MC Paul Barman

Producer: Diddy Nashiem Myrick

Has anyone in the crowd heard this beat before?
1-2

Who shot ya?
Separate weak from indoctra-nated
Time for some deflated egos
It's off, people!
Dead won't make you a hero
Operation Dead Negro killed a whole bunch Arabs and a shitload of honkeys
Democrats are a disgrace to donkeys
What's that (on your neck?) you better rep that ankh piece
Drown your sorrows in bathtub of soda pop
Say "Tomorrow it'll all be alright"
When tonight, you know it's not
Naw, i'm playin', it'll all be alright

No it's not.....

Maybe it's cause i'm used to things not alright is why I see this
Maybe it's cause Donald Rumsfeld once held my penis
War is some gay shit
Perpetrated by true players in blue blazers bathed in the dark light of self-hatred
I've heard a whole lotta rappers rhyme over this beat
And i've heard a whole lotta rhymers rep for the street
But I never hear bout' the people they meet
They don't observe, they offer no insight
They can't love music, they hate themselves inside
Never listen to nobody else
Keepin' it real is bein' yourself
Strong stuck to weak like a birth defect
We need ideas not leaders, nobody's perfect... yet!
Chomsky's too academic, emcees are homophobic
We taught Nazis Eugenics, brain muscles need aerobics
"Wait, what was that? Nazis?
Who's 'we', not me!
What's Eugenics?"
The science of race
Recently disproved whose origins trace
To Cali
Yeah, that hot bed of liberality
Recently voted in a machine of Nazi municipality
With General Powell's son is the FCC
Means that you think so, but were not really free
The circle of life is not work all your life for the man who took your dad's life, that's called slavery!
I'm on top of my game like a lifeguard chair
You don't know nothin' yet you'd like to share
Too bad... Show and tell's ova'
A soldier's a gofer for a lawyer in a shoulder-holster
Seein' the truth's an emotional rollercoaster
This is some higher talk
I've been going through my firewalk
The most recent war was I-raq
The next maybe Syria, but sure won't be Saudi Arabia
But we'll get all of its neighba's
And we'll kill some babies and some ground troops
They'll be in the shit
That's not the shit meaning good, but meaning brown soup
To all my brothers in arms, making sick jokes
Forgive the sieves, they don't know the big hoax
They're cloaked in darkness like "who turned the lights out?"
Your handwritten kites are censored with white out
We might have to fight our way out
You can't join a clique, you best start your own right now

Yeah... since 9-5 motherfuckers
1695 mothafuckas
Puff, I think you've said e'nuff
Its time to shut the pu kcuf

I shot ya
I got ya open like a chakra
Science is knowin' not just a degree for a docta'
Superficial distinctions make me go batty
Gangsters aren't rebels, they just imitate daddy

MC Paul Barman

Ridgewood, New Jersey’s MC Paul Barman is one of a kind. The rapper, best known for his early work with Prince Paul (and for inventing the word “vajajay”), is equally likely to rap in acrostics, reference Polish film directors, or tell a dirty story about Rae Dawn Chong. Barman’s virtuosic and imaginative songs about vulture shark sculpture parks, anarchist bookstores, and cock mobsters create a wild, fascinating world where almost anything can happen.

Much like Souls of Mischief and MF DOOM, his style often consists of multi-syllabic rhyming, where not just the last word in a line rhymes, but several parallel syllables.