The Public Enemy’s account of the slave trade, this country’s worst crime.
Bass in your face
Not an eight track getting’
it good to the wood
so the people
Give you some a dat
reactin’ to the fax
that I kick and it stick
And it stay around
Pointin’ to the joint,
put the Budda down
Goin’, goin’, gettin’ to the roots
Ain’t givin’ it up
So turn me loose
But then again I got a story
That’s harder than the hard-core
Cost of the Holocaust
I’m talkin’ about the one still goin’ on
I know Where I’m from ,
not dum-diddie-dum
From the base motherland
The place of the drum
Invaded by the whacked diddie whacked
Fooled the black, left us faded
King and Chief probably had a big beef
Because of dat now I grit my teeth
So here’s a song to the strong
‘Bout a shake of a snake
And the smile went along wit dat
Can’t truss it
Kickin’ wicked rhymes
Like a fortune teller
Cause the wickedness done by Jack
Where everybody at
Divided and sold
For liquor and the gold
Smacked in the back
For the other man to mack
Now the story that I’m kickin’ is gory
Little Rock where they be
Dockin’ this boat
No hope I’m shackled
Plus gang tackled
By the other hand swingin’ the rope
Wearin’ red, white and blue Jack and his crew
The guy’s authorized beat down for the brown
Man to the man, each one so it teach one
Born to terrorize sisters and every brother
One love who said it
I know Whodini sang it
But the hater taught hate
that’s why we gang bang it
Beware of the hand when it’s coming from the left
I ain’t trippin just watch ya step
Can’t truss it
Gettin’ me bruised on the cruise
What I got to lose, lost all contact
Got me laying on my back
Rolling in my own leftover
When I roll over, I roll over in somebody else’s
90 F-kin days on a slave ship
Count’ em fallin’ off two, three, fo’ hun’ed at a time
Blood in the wood and it’s mine
I’m chokin’ on spit feeling pain
Like my brain bein’ chained
Still gotta give it what I got
But it’s hot in the day, cold in the night
But I thrive to survive, I pray to God to stay alive
Attitude boils up inside
And that ain’t it (think I’ll never quit)
Still I pray to get my hands ’round
The neck of the man wit the whip
3 months pass, they brand a label on my ass
To signify
Owned
I’m on the microphone
Sayin’ 1555
How I’m livin’
We been livin’ here
Livin’ ain’t the word I been givin’
Haven’t got
Classify us in the have-nots
Fightin’ haves
‘Cause it’s all about money
When it comes Armageddon
Mean I’m gettin’ mine
Here I am turn it over Sam
427 to the year
Do you understand
That’s why it’s hard
Fore the black to love the land
Once again
Bass in your face