Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Live And Undrugged Pt. 1 & 2, artist - Public Enemy. Date of issue: 22.08.1994
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Live And Undrugged Pt. 1 & 2 |
| Its been a long time |
| Since the rhyme rode |
| A rough road |
| I’m riding rhymes &givin |
| A dose of brotherland |
| Never said I wasn’t good at it |
| Cause I’m a static addict |
| No fear you gotta |
| Know I had it |
| If you know better |
| Spose to do better |
| So I know like Al Green |
| We gotta stay together |
| Knock, knock… who's there |
| Where? |
| overhere |
| Da boom kids knockin |
| Bang and they outta here |
| The dopemans livin at home |
| Aloneman |
| They don’t understand |
| But they can |
| They can can |
| If I don’t say it |
| I’m a sucka parlayin it |
| Don’t really matter |
| When the flow fatter |
| But I don’t don’t |
| Believe |
| &duck bob an weave |
| Will deceive a street corner |
| And the 40 thieves |
| They bring em in |
| You do em in |
| He bring em in |
| You do us in |
| Smell em knockin da/boom |
| Hear em hittin nat/boom |
| I’m comin atcha |
| Live and uncut |
| An undrugged |
| These days they be thinkin I’m bugged |
| Livin I be kicken it |
| Hard instead of lickin it |
| Down domination on the overground |
| Tell me what we be |
| Seekin is self preservation |
| A nation of millions |
| Gotta go wit a feelin |
| Uncle Sam be gatt Uncle Tom |
| And when it comes to drugs |
| Uncle Tom gotta bomb |
| Can I get a pop |
| Till the muthafukas stop |
| Sellin nat shit |
| That make the hoody drop |
| No more easy gettin over |
| For da cracka in the back |
| Yo its over |
| Number 1 wit a bullet |
| He pull it what I do now |
| Cant out run it or duck |
| Or get a new Chuck |
| Up against the wall |
| Wont confess yall |
| I mo move &I'm gone |
| An so I guess yall |
| Lemme tell you so lend me a listen |
| I’m missin a life |
| If I ain’t givin up an ass kissin |
| No television or movie style |
| No buckwild thinkin |
| Cause I don’t know what he drinkin |
| But he better act quick |
| Cause I’m gettin quicker |
| 3 mo seconds to go |
| I hope he hold da trigga |
| If he do dat |
| The gatt iz outta his hands |
| &then he gotta deal wit a man |
| Punks jump up to get beat |
| I’m on the funky beat |
| Beat beat yall |
| Until its 6 feet |
| Under dirt &the mud |
| Here we go again |
| Another enemy if you |
| Never was a friend |
| Never clever |
| As I was in this endever |
| Never again trust a smile or grin |
| From comin outta da womb |
| To endin up in a tomb |
| Another sport |
| Caught knockin nat boom |
| Here go the verse that hurts |
| Head brother in charge |
| So I better get bodyguard |
| What can I do |
| Break a leg on the avenue |
| Where the bootleggers |
| They be stackin the odds |
| Try to be hard but they playin my cards |
| Fuckin wit chicken |
| But I’m duckin in the lard |
| Been goin straight since 78 |
| I wanna live I don’t wanna be late |
| I head em comin at me |
| Runnin fast &ruff |
| Ain’t this a bitch &test for the tuff |
| Bang/doubt it |
| Without a life |
| I cant live without it |
| Bang |
| Rhymer in a zone |
| Say u wanna revolution |
| 40 acres to 40 ounces |
| Plus they announcin |
| The mule is the one thats fooled |
| But I pass to be that jackass |
| Knockin that boom |
| To the tomb |
| Out the womb |
| I bet against the spread |
| I flipped death threats |
| And the 3 to the head |
| Never get enough |
| The raw, the rugged, the ruff |
| Oh my the jam the dunk the stuff |
| I got a mind thats maddes than Minolta |
| Hard in a rock place my corner |
| And the winner is |
| Whoop there it is |
| 33 years without a beer or slow gin fizz |
| Rather get frunk off |
| Hearin rhymin wit biz |
| Rhymamatician, rumpshaker |
| Mindquaker |
| Not a cracker or a quacker |
| But a waker |
| Put my thing down |
| Step my shit up |
| Put up or shut up |
| Peace to the original what up |
| Back to the motherland |
| Where its warmer, transformer |
| Kill the informer |
| I hear em talkin creepin |
| But I’m not sleepin |
| My mellow I go back |
| Way back going, going |
| Before crack |
| And the 8 track |
| Still goin, gone, goodbye |
| To the lazy |
| I ain’t pushing up or drivin |
| No daisies |
| I gotta remember Philly in September |
| Ain’t nuttin finer than peace |
| In Carolina &to the gods |
| Wanna be, gotta be |
| Starter of mo flow |
| Here we go the front row |
| As I cut the silly rhymin |
| Riddlin still the flow |
| Gettin ridda dem |
| Racist swazis |
| Cause I’m brinin kamikazes |
| They gotta give us where we live |
| We don’t own |
| What you think is home |
| Its time to go up in smoke |
| 911 is no joke |
| Once again friends |
| This enemy states fiddy states |
| Still say chill wait until |
| The right time baby |
| Damn the blood line |
| Gettin raid with AIDS |
| But somebodys gettin paid |
| Lets get it on and a on |
| But brothers gettin killed |
| Cause blunts &40's is like |
| Cookies to da milk |
| I’m not crazy |
| I’m the revelation |
| Last days in time |
| The overtime rhymer |
| Rhymer in a zone |
| Right vs wrong |
| Good versus evil |
| God versus the devil |
| Public Enemy |
| Muse Sick In Hour Mess Age |