Calm Like a Bomb (Live In Mexico City, MX, 10/28/99)

Feel the funk blast Feel the funk blast Feel the funk blast Feel the funk blast Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo I be walkin' god like a dog My narrative fearless My word war returns to burn Like Baldwin home from Paris Like Steel from a furnace I was born landless This is tha native son Born of Zapata's guns Stroll through tha shanties And tha cities remains Same bodies buried hungry But with different last names These vultures rob everything Leave nothing but chains Pick a point on tha globe Yes tha pictures tha same There's a bank There's a church a myth and a hearse A mall and a loan a child dead at birth There's a widow pig parrot A rebel to tame A whitehooded judge A syringe and a vein And tha riot be tha rhyme of tha unheard What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what? What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what? I'm calm like a bomb I'm calm like a bomb This ain't subliminal Feel tha critical mass approach horizon Tha pulse of tha condemned Sound off America's demise Tha anti-myth rhythm rock shocker Yes I spit fire Hope lies in tha smoldering rubble of empires Yes back through tha shanties and tha cities remains Tha same bodies buried hungry But with different last names These vultures rob everyone Leave nothing but chains Pick a point here at home Yes tha picture's tha same There's a field full of slaves Some corn and some debt There's a ditch full of bodies Tha check for tha rent There's a tap, tha phone, tha silence of stone The numb black screen That be feelin' like home And tha riot be tha rhyme of tha unheard What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what? What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what? What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what? I'm calm like a bomb Calm like a bomb I'm calm like a bomb I'm calm like a bomb I'm calm like a bomb I'm calm like a bomb I'm calm like a bomb There's a mass without roofs A prison to fill A country's soul that reads post no bills A strike and a line of cops outside of tha mill A right to obey And a right to kill A mass without roofs A prison to fill A country's soul that reads post no bills A strike and a line of cops outside of tha mill A right to obey And a right to kill