If you don′t stand up for something

You'll fall for anything

August 20th

You really don′t understand, do you?

Hey man, don't you realise a lot of fuss

To make this thing work?

Man, we've got to get rid of the

Pimps and the pushers and the prostitutes

And it′s dawned all over again

Masses of our people are in the streets

They′re fighting tit for tat, tooth for tooth

An eye for an eye and a life for a life

Will you just stop shooting up your people?

It's the living dead

That we have right among our midst

And if you don′t like this thing, let's get ready to change it

(Yeah)

Oh-oh shit, we′re into it now, boys

Oh y'all release me a nigger

But at least I shot me a nigger

Here we go again

Look what we′ve got here

December 31st 1999

New Year's Eve of the year 2000

At the edge of the 21st Century

President Duke of the United World States of Europe-America

In the New World Order, declares war

As a last attempt to unify African people as one nation under one rule

Yes there are black folks and white folks

Along some line it's coloured

But the programmed subcultures have wreaked havoc on the Earth

Crackers and devils who are programmed on a superiority complex

Aim to make reign of the righteous to turn them into nigger-trons

In the nigger-tronic age

With no respect for themselves whatsoever

Goal: crack to cracker

Level the devil, and decoy ram the nigger-trons

It′s up to the righteous to step up and confront those, front

The ones that really make the money off the verdict of life

The mission: protect your people, by any means necessary

Protect by any means necessary

Your country′s still got love for 'em

We have never bit out tongue about that

We say it now, loud and clear

Down in the country where I was born

Picking that cotton and breaking corn

Whole lotta love goin′ on

In da middle of what?

Say what?

What's goin on?

I leave ′em home alone

They turned it into danger zones

Studio shootouts, leavin no doubt

In da eyes of the wise and not the other guys

Fantasise and gettin' that rep

Makin′ you move while they disturb the groove

Now the party's over, oops, outta time

Yo, my brother can you spare a crime?

Some wanna take me out, I even call 'em my own

(Can′t we all just get along?)

Rap is a contact sport, can I get support?

When I hum to the maximum

What I talk is straight from the sidewalk strong

The velt New York

112 beats a minute and I′m flowin' in it

Have no mercy to the ones that curse me

And when I′m in a pain

The feuding might be over but the fussin' ain′t

Some hate the way I say 'em

′Cause I block 'em like Zo' to the a.m.

Beginning of an end of an era, incredible shrinking race

Fiend without a face, and still got love for ′em

But some ain′t got no love for the rest of us

So my boys get iller than Illinois

Return to the noise

I'd rather fall off than fall victim of crime

And a low percentage rhyme

If I go down then they goin′ down with me

So y'all come and get me

C′mon (c'mon)

C′mon (c'mon)

C'mon (c′mon)

C′mon (c'mon)

C′mon

Number one (Wild Wild West)