[Donte of Mood]
Yo, Mood recite chapters
Rappers write scripts for actors
Don't rap about the facts, 'til they attacked and catched
Handcuffed and shackled, stand up, get tackled
Defeaters of your leaders, heaters on their Adam's apple
Keep quiet, be silent, the sphere no weak vibe
We defy, out lootin' and rootin' for street riots
Got to stop it, they taxes for guns, wars and rockets
Puttin' profits in their pockets
The lock and kill our prophets
[Donte & Main Flow]
MF: They stole knots, whole spots trapped in the road block
DT: We globetrot, with road pop, running from old cops
MF: The whole shot's told plots, Babylon's gold pot
DT: Load Glocks, cold shots, set out like we sold rocks
[Main Flow of Mood]
We dealing with NARCS and cases
Deaths over parking spaces
Evil hearts are racist, Ohio's dark places
Brutality on mark faces, car chases
Incarceration, unite so we can spark the nation
[Nine]
You got the right to remain silent, at the same time –
They got the right to remain violent and aim nines
They got no love for you, just slugs for you
Who want it? I fight back like a rat when he cornered
Catch me at the light, windows tinted, 35 percent
Breakin' ya neck, to see who's in it
What is my intent? Trying to live
Without the nonsense tou dying to give
[Tiye Phoenix]
Yo yo, the spokesqueen number one, Tiye Phoenix
The black Venus de Milo
Doper then Tae Bo, every man, woman and child know
We unified force against the shooters of Diallo
And now they sure to lose like Luther at the Apollo
For Amistad to Amadou, attacked in the streets
The term COP really stands for Cappin' Our Peeps
They shot him, 40 rounds, our brother got slaughtered down
We push through the border now, jihad, holy war bound
[Breeze Brewin']
"You wanna be a [fuckin'] accident?," the beast was barkin'
"You wanna know how many accidents could rob a New Yorker?"
"And the possible atrocity –
Millimeters from the kids," said the Glock
With a ferocity, seemin' as if it's inbred
While I stated innocent, but stressing it
You're sure that it was desolate
It could have been an isolated incident
Nothing was found, "No hard feelings, I fight bad guys"
Strutting around like he Christ huntin' the vice anti
[Talib Kweli]
This goes out to MC's who used to rock in Washington Square Park
Now Giuliani got it locked after dark
We mastered the art of living in death's shadow
It's enough of a battle, to dodge the police
And have to rise above the crabs in the barrel
My people spill blood in the streets
I'm never running from beast
Can I get a response from all the revolutionaries up in this piece?
("Yeah!!")
What up, 'cause of the way we think, they want to incarcerate us
They think time will break us, but time won't make us
[Punchline]
I rock a vest even when I take shots at a bar
The type to write the word "Police" on a unmarked car
I resent you, gettin' off easy if they suspend you
I'll end you, hope they use your own gun against you
It's all mental, my man died in the streets
I'm pouring out liquor, until there's nuthin' to drink
That's how many cats died, slayed by the beast
That night, 5-0 held court in the streets
[Refrain: Mr. Len scratches]
[KRS-One:] "Who protects us from you?!?"
[MC Shan:] "Hip-Hop!"
[El-P]
Petrified little venomous school yard outcast
From dysfunctional world of redneck garbage
Community [bastard] child
Seekin' power to over-compensate
For minuscule [dick] record
And repressed [homo]sexual activity style
Need a vocation when standards split for the semi-retarded
Who's prone to fits of spontaneous violence and compulsive lying
Pack your Dukes Of Hazzard lunchbox with a Glock
And your Ku Klux decoder ring
We'll sing "Kumbaya" to the tune of a man dying!
[Jah-Born of Medina Green]
Y'all seen the front page? Another black man got slayed
By the beast hit with a rain, over 4 Glocks got sprayed
Hey Giuliani, was 41 shots necessary?
Now my people's got to worry, 'bout the cops possibly killin' me
Justice? All I see is Just Us
Gettin knocked locked and bust, without a word discussed
NYPD, should be NYPIG
I don't deal with the swine, don't want swine dealin' with me
[Jean Grae]
These shot-happy [motherfuckers] legally ready to blaze [niggas]
With raised triggers and cock-back with plans to fade figures
Who black and innocent, [fuck] it, let's get militant
Run up in the precinct, strapped with gats, with full clips loaded
Aim at they heads, stainin' the feds
Double 20 plus 1 round 'til blood red – revenge
We must return to avenge
My brother, we coming
The first sister holdin' the lead
[John Forté]
El Capitano keep my guns high
I run through New York 'cause I'm alumni
The fact I'm in it, half street, half academic
I memorize my stash number, the flash number
Ya pig stench, plus your badge number
Ya precinct, and the Irish lad you serve under
I'm probaly grinding drugs, come from hittin' the kitchen
"A black man in a pretty car" will fit the description
You get informed quick
"You racist [fuck], I was born rich!"
[Mr. Khaliyl]
I seen it happen before, and it could happen again
You on a block mindin' your own and then you're left by your friends
'Cause they ain't down to scrap, just wanna ride in your Benz
But when the cops is on the beat, that's when the party begins
Like a karate picture, the way they mop the floor with ya
All caught up in the heat, now the doctor can't stitch ya
Nobody movin with ya, 'cause you really ain't bout it
Now there's fear in your heart, and there's blood in your mouth
It's like something we never seen before
It's almost like we dreamed it all
Live or die, either or, my blood is what they fiending for
My people's screamin for the justice we deserve
Send 41 back, we leaving 22 on the curb
[Refrain: Mr. Len scratches]
[KRS-One:] "Who protects us from you?!?"
[MC Shan:] "Hip-Hop!"
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