| Yeah, once again, word up urban inspirational
|
| KRS-One, Professor Ecks, whattup Dan? |
| Woo
|
| Temple of Hip-Hop, let’s do it
|
| By the sound of the track, you know who is back
|
| It’s the teacher, philosopher of conscious rap
|
| Rappers tired of me sayin where hip-hop is at
|
| Cause they know they unoriginal, copycats
|
| Watch me bump this gospel rap, never wack
|
| In fact, I tell you where the tracks is at
|
| TV is wack, they wanna show us beatin Iraq
|
| When the question is, is where is Chandra Levy at?
|
| Murdered God and left for dead like hip-hop
|
| And admit to Condit like conduct, to kill Ecks the dread
|
| And Kris crucified the false prophet
|
| John F. Kennedy to these MC’s, I draw and cock it
|
| Cock on cocky cops for the love of the art
|
| Punish the part, partition
|
| Pardon the pause, poison pens penetrate the mental
|
| I walk with Kris so my body’s a temple
|
| Body instrumentals and body your squad in the body of a God
|
| Just think, just think, what if Malcolm X returned
|
| Or Dr. King returned, tell me what have we learned?
|
| As we takin our turn, tell me what have we earned
|
| Or is the ice and the cars our only concern
|
| Mo' money, mo' money, you be yellin it out
|
| And on TV can’t you see you be sellin us out
|
| So in 2010, look to 2002
|
| Who you think they gonna respect, me or you?
|
| Behold, the God, in the form of the man
|
| Walkin off water and (?) flesh absorbs in the sand
|
| Moor gets the land, divorcin the clan, I’m off into sand
|
| Off and I’m slayin delicate arms from porcelain hands
|
| Slaughtered the lambs, charge it to the game
|
| Cats take hip-hop's name in vain
|
| Disrespectin the forefathers who came (uh-huh)
|
| Goddess hurt 'em right now, like when Marvin was slain
|
| They don’t want it, nope, they don’t need it, nope
|
| Just stay weeded and hope, I don’t read what you wrote
|
| Best believe they ain’t dope, they deceivin these folks
|
| With they meaningless quotes, I got my feet on they throat
|
| What they speak is a joke, they really weak and they broke
|
| Have a seat and take notes, on the streets I’m the Pope
|
| MTV is they hope, they repeat what they wrote
|
| I’m an MC that won’t, let them tempt me with coke
|
| Nope, flesh of my flesh, blessed by KRS
|
| Used to love her, they (?) haven’t made a date with death
|
| Follow no man, enslave the Ecks, Professin the student
|
| I vibe with the teacher obliged to drop (?) liver than heaters
|
| Lyrics liable to eat us like the survivors of Jesus
|
| Now the, blind is the leaders, your styles is egregious
|
| Gets now the brow beateth to underground emceeth
|
| The game is overheated, overweeded, and misunderstood
|
| Word, just a ride in they boat, with a platinum rope
|
| No doubt, they sellin us out, what’s happenin loc?
|
| Quit this rappin I won’t, cause MC’n is dope
|
| If I can’t do it for the love then do it I won’t
|
| How many times we note when these rappers is dope
|
| Satisfied, that’s why I’m renewin your hope
|
| Broaden your scope, when cleaned out your mind
|
| My rhyme is like a new bar of deoderant soap
|
| In this land of men mice and mimes, I holds right for the laws
|
| Live life like Christ, makin bread from mics and applause
|
| The snakes fight with Tyson like jaws for what’s rightfully yours
|
| I might (?) 'em all, tell me — is it life or it’s war?
|
| Goooyyyyiiyyyiyyyyod, Goooyyyiyyiyyyiiiod, Gooyyyyiyyiyyyod
|
| My God, your God, our God. |
| is God, is God
|
| Change is gonna come, where you goin to run, but to God?
|
| To God, run to God, run to God
|
| Run to God, and let him in your heart
|
| Change is gonna come, the change is gonna come
|
| Make it your change, run to God, in your heart
|
| Let God in your heart, he will fillt he part
|
| Goooyyyyiiyyyiyyyyod, in youuuuuuur heart
|
| Take it to God, take it to God God
|
| Take it to my God, your God, take it to God
|
| Take it to Goooyyyyiiyyyiyyyyod, take it to Goooyyyyiiyyyiyyyyod
|
| Take it to Goooyyyyiiyyyiyyyyod, take it to God
|
| Just take it to God, run and, take it God
|
| Take it to Go-awd |