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Uh, uh, mmm, mmm? mmm? yup, yeah, uh |
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Those who front an' don't really want trouble |
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Step to the side like an S1W |
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The NW north of NWA's place of origin |
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Originators of the first general strike |
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Roots of our labor is thick |
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Still awaiting the fruits of our labor to get higher than a 747 jet |
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But when we say, "now," they say, "not yet" |
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They don't feel it, but give it respect |
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There's no hard feelings more paper to collect |
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Though I can care less |
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Family is fed, clothes on they back, shelter over head |
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When debts climb higher than paychecks can reach |
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Whoever asks next for a free CD will catch a bad one |
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Trust this, believe you, me |
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Probably tens of thousands of people just like me in a town, in a town |
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In a town not big enough for ego to breath |
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You plead unity but never build the bridges between |
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And if you travel to the next town |
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You might find that shit's surprising |
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They all act just like us |
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Carrying the legacy of people divided |
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Plagued by infighting and tight knit surviving |
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People on the outside look and write about it |
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Choose the safe route to fit they own palate |
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Ignore the rest at the same time the rest get restless |
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And blame it on the other's success |
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It gets twisted |
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Crab in a barrel existence |
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Where no amount of noise make the powerful listen |
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Power's within us all, pistols are drawn |
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We about to shine like Mr. Sinister's arm |
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And the songs that they sold to the devils are gone |
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We all vagabonds, home is whatever we stand upon |
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Take a picture, they'll last longer |
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I think they forgot that songs last forever |
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It's a whole lot of cheddar at the top now |
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Fuck tryna climb up, let's bring the top down |
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Bring it down, bring it, bring it down, down down, bring it down, let's bring it down, ah |
