x - kembe x lyrics
[intro: malcolm x]
“and if someone [were to] come to you right now and say ‘let’s separate,’
you’d say the same thing the house negro said on the plantation..
what you mean, separate? from america? this good white man?
where you gonna get a better job than you get here?
i mean this is what you say! i don’t… i ain’t left nothin’ in africa
that’s what you say.. while you left your mind in africa”
verse 1:
b-tch i’m back
i’m back for the 10th time
catalyzin revolution, the national enzyme
from the land, where becoming a fan is d-ckridin
you live with 2 picks, be a slave, or split ties
i know it wasn’t the plan to switch sides
or to shuffle the momentum, the clan just shifts tides
it’s implied, that we burn your insides
lyrical spitfire
n-gga let the synth ride
let go of goals and exposed my soul
knock-knockin for opportunity, beggin to get immunity
seventeenage but soon to influence the whole community
k!llin the coonery
meanwhile, runnin ya necks for jewelry
under duress, in tune
the elephant in the room
full of peanut holdin f-ggots, that’s plottin upon my doom
it’s soundin like a counterstrike is quintessential
track murder’s never incidental
x
(break)
“what is the difference between a black revolution
and a negro revolution?
…bloodshed! you haven’t got a revolution that doesn’t involve bloodshed
and you are afraid to bleed
..i said, you’re afraid to bleed!
verse 2
f-ck the world if you can grab it
life’s a b-tch… and lil wayne’s a f-ckin f-ggot
pardon my french
it’s just a habit, i been harborin tense
for labels nothing’s adding up cause they ain’t marketing sense
f-ck it..
our count of dollars is sh-t
so when our ends come up, we do the math and hit the mall to repent
..maybe they should offer us tents
droppin racks to clear the racks, it should be all on the rent
i hit the homie, ordered 30 nugs of stank cus
our home is in foreclosure and they say my mama bankrupt
tryna get some bread, you n-ggas tryna getcha rank up
pushin h-lla dank, just to fill the f-ckin tank up
..
so whatchu know bout that my mans? blank
the expression on they face, when i play my f-ckin tape
sealin my fate
shouts to god and satan
k!ll em all, we ain’t got time to escape..
x
the holographic apocalypse is on it’s way.. look up
as the sane minded
use mic stands, pots and pans
to push raps, gats and other contrabands
the rest of the world hopelessly rests in fates arms
and as sh-t grows tense
less and less will make sense…
doom starts with an a
freedom starts with an x
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