The Struggle Continues

[FARRAKHAN SPEECH OCTOBER 16th. 1995]

Midori, plays the violin, She was magnificent

They don't have to say to white people;

I'm better than you, they just do their thing (YEAH!!)

And White Folk got to readjust their thinking

Because they thought that they used to master

All of these instruments and nobody else could

But the Chinese are mastering it, even the Japanesse are mastering it

All these things; are breaking up the mind of White Supremacy

Blackman, you don't have to bash white people

All we got to do is; go back home (Where?)

And turn our communities, into productive places

All we gotta do is; go back home

And make our communities a decent and safe place to live (YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT!!)

And if we start dotting the Black Community with businesses (YEAH!!)

Opening up factories (WHAT ELSE?) challenging ourselves to better than we are

White folks, instead of driving-by using the “N” word

They will say: (Look! Look at them! Oh! my God!

They're marvelous, they're wonderful, we can't..

We can't say they're inferior anymore)

But every time we drive-by and shoot, every time we car-jack

Every time we use foul, and filthy language (The struggle continues)

Every time we produce culturally degenerate's films and tapes

Putting a string in our women's backside (The struggle continues)

And parading them before the world (The struggle continues)

Every time we do things like this;

We are feeding the degenerate mind of White Supremacy

And I want us to stop feeding that mind, and let that mind die;

Their natural death. (YEAH!!) (*APPLAUSE!! CLAPS!!*)

[Verse 1: 2Pac]

Now, I was born as a rebel, making trouble for the devil

Take this gang bang shit, to a whole another level

Can you feel me now?

Armies in every city, definition of power

Players are you with me? - see the war is the prophecy

Survival is the strategy, rest in peace!

To my comrades that's deceased, organize the streets in time

You'll have these devils petrified of a nigga in his right mind

They tell us that we hopeless and hell bound

It's for the brothers in penitentiaries jailed down

I got you in my heart until the day I die

Think of the damage we could do, if we wasn't high

Can you picture me loc? - it's a thug's wrath

Political contracts and blood baths

For Matulu Shakur up in the Rikers though they got you

I'll never let them stop you, the struggle continues

[Verse 2: Fatal Hussein]

I gotta get out of town, see I done shot another Dick

Nigga be rolling trips, to keep his mind off sticks

They check our parole, they supervise my whole size

Money wires surprise, drug dealers on the rise

These carjacks is federal, you soft and shreddable

Dictionary rappers you come at me all edible

I lit bash your crew, like you know what I'm about (Ha ha ha)

Guinness style 'cause Fatal done hit up another house

These props and pretty niggas getting played like pumps

Fucking up these fag fronts; fronting on blunts

Blast these bitch niggas bullshitting on a body

Kill niggas Brown it in me and you can ask Bobby

Slick shooter and looter, killer smoking Buddha

Man this dirty money can't get a little cuter

Money and hoes, money and hoes

Rest in peace and Al. Storm Murder Case has just closed

[Verse 3: Flip Side of O.F.T.B]

All I'm trying to do is make a penny

But crooked cops beating down my door like I beat down Reginald Denny

They're in position with they shot guns

But if they kick in my door like I know they catch the hot one

They kicked it in, so Flip got biz

Now I'm on the run living life as a fugitive

The cops was deep, they made a clean sweep

I tried to break but caught one in the ass cheek

[Verse 4: Big Syke]

A drug smuggler from the underworld, thugging Desperado

Visual locomotion from my Teflon hollows

Transgression racketeer, probation violator

Buster, tester, no fear for the Ingle, Watts slayer

My future is unknown, hoochies on the phone calling me

Parking down the street from my house trying to follow me

Boundaries restricted for a thug unconstitutional

Balling out of control from L.A. to Puerto Rico

[Verse 5: Flip Side of O.F.T.B]

I'm bleeding bad, and damn I need a doctor

But I can't do shit until I shake this helicopter

A gang banger, dope slanger, full of anger

I killed a cop now they want me on a coat hanger

[Verse 6: Big Syke]

We smoke Dope and soak Weed and greed ain't uncommon though

Dog I'm in need, indeed ain't no option bro'

Cookies and chips, I got a street education

My homies stressing out 'cause his babies mama is basing

What am I chasing a relationship with God or a female?

Secrets don't tell, I just posted bail

Fuck Jail and the C.O. from my niggas in the Pen'

Treated like a dog for his sin, fuck a friend

Let my '64 Benz blockade as I fade back streets

L.A., East Side Compton, Long Beach

Murderous, killers, lunatic kamikazes

We drop bodies and throw parties, the struggle continues

[Verse 7: The Low M.B. of O.F.T.B]

Fuck the pigs, they keep a nigga upset

'Cause if they see me in a Benz, I know them fools wanna sweat

I guess they think The Low M. ain't suppose to have shit

Try to pull me over, I'm going to kill that ass bitch

'Cause I'm from Nickerson Gardens nigga

And I know you heard; that we're all cop killers

My young homies love that shit like a sport

They're rather kill a cop than be in the basketball court

And we're going to stick with the hate

HUH! you think it's over 'cause you got rid of that fool Daryl Gates

But he's still in the back calling shots

So we're gonna stay in our hood killing cops