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(feat. Sarah Jones) |
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[Intro] |
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Yeah yeah, yeah this goes out to all the women and men from New York to |
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London to LA to Tokyo struggling to keep their self-respect in this climate |
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Of misogyny, money worship and mass production of hip-hop's illegitimate child, |
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Hip-Pop. And this especially goes out to Gil Scott-Heron, friend, living legend |
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And proto-rapper who wrote "The Revolution will not be Televised." Much Respect. |
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[Verse] |
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Your revolution will not happen between these thighs |
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Your revolution will not happen between these thighs |
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Your revolution will not happen between these thighs |
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Not happen between these thighs |
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Not happen between these thighs |
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The real revolution ain't about booty size |
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The Versaces you buys, or the Lexus you drives |
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And though we've lost Biggie Smalls |
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Baby your notorious revolution |
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Will never allow you to lace no lyrical douche, in my bush |
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Your revolution will not be killing me softly, with Fugees |
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Your revolution ain't gonna knock me up without no ring |
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And produce little future emcees |
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Because that revolution will not happen between these thighs |
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Your revolution will not find me in the backseat of a jeep |
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With LL, hard as hell, you know doin it and doin it and doin it well |
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Doin it and doin it and doin it well, nah come on now |
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Your revolution will not be you smacking it up, flipping it, or rubbing it down |
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Nor will it take you downtown or humpin around |
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Because that revolution will not happen between these thighs |
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Your revolution will not have me singing, ain't no nigga like the one I got |
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And your revolution will not be sending me for no drip, drip VD shot |
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And your revolution will not involve me, feelin your nature rise |
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Or helping you fantasize |
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Because that revolution will not happen between these thighs |
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No no, not between these thighs |
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Oh, my Jamican brother, your revolution will not make you feel bombastic |
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And really fantastic |
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And have you groping in the dark for that rubber wrapped in plastic |
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You will not be touching your lips to my triple dip of french vanilla, |
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Butter pecan, chocolate delux |
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Or having Akinyele's dream, m-hmm a 6-foot blowjob machine m-hmm |
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You want to subjugate your queen? uh-huh |
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Think I'm a put it in my mouth, just cuz you made a few bucks? |
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Please brother please |
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Your revolution will not be me tossing my weave |
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And making me believe I'm some caviar-eating ghetto mafia clown |
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Or me giving up my behind, just so I can get signed |
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And maybe having somebody else write my rhymes |
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I'm Sarah Jones, not Foxy Brown |
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You know I'm Sarah Jones, not Foxy Brown |
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Your revolution makes me wonder, where could we go |
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If we could drop the empty pursuit of props and ego |
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We'd revolt back to our Roots, use a little Common Sense |
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On a quest to make love De La Soul, no pretense |
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But your revolution will not be you flexing your little sex and status |
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To express what you feel |
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Your revolution will not happen between these thighs |
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Will not happen between these thighs |
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Will not be you shaking and me *yawn* faking |
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Between these thighs |
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Because the real revolution, that's right I said the real revolution |
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You know I'm talking about the revolution |
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When it comes, it's gonna be real |
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It's gonna be real |
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It's gonna be real |
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When it finally comes |
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When it finally comes |
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It's gonna be real, yeah yea |
