| Yo what you got for me man?
|
| Yeah I got that red, black and green for you baby
|
| C’mon c’mon c’mon, give it to me, I need it now
|
| Got that good shit
|
| C’mon, I need somethin now
|
| Make you really right
|
| Oooooooooooh~!
|
| We were strung out, on revolution
|
| Filled up the syringe with Mao and Marx and Malcolm and Finot
|
| And OD’d, on the possibility of change
|
| We could knock you out with our afros
|
| Stop bullets with our dashikis
|
| Beep beep, bang bang, ungawa, black powerrr
|
| A change is comin, and nothin could stop it
|
| We got hiiiiiiiiigh on blackness
|
| Held our black fists up, and told the devil to suck
|
| And made a commitment to disrupt the world
|
| Kill a cop a day, give white girls no play
|
| Make America pay for all her wicked ways
|
| The shit was on, then it was gone
|
| Just like an episode on TV
|
| It got cancelled, and there was nothing to see
|
| Panthers were turned into little pussycats
|
| Revolution was commercialized, and had nothing to do with black
|
| Crossovers in music, in clothes, in styles and sex
|
| Became the norm, for what was comin next |
| But we never stopped makin babies
|
| They came out breathin the vapors, of an aborted revolution
|
| And all the failed capers, and the few who were escapers became stories
|
| Some of us wanted to forget
|
| So the sons of guns and the daughters of black order
|
| Hopped into what was hip
|
| And skipped over the scattered remains
|
| Of a would-be revolution, turned into a game
|
| Yeah, this is our legacy
|
| Ha~! |