Альбом The Coup

Presto, read the Communist Manifesto
Guerrillas in the Mist, a Guevara named Ernesto, so
(E-Roc: What a brother with a afro know?)
Yo, go and flow for the mack and be the hoe
so grow cause the lynchin brothers might get hung
Better rip through em from the tip of my mouth/Mao, say/Tse-Tung/tongue
Deficit (money spent) catch the glint
(E-Roc: of my nine as they cut welfare twenty-five percent)
And I dissent, as I clench and raise my fist
(We did away with, that) so you could get with this
Here's a twist cause we're overthrown like Kwame Nkrumah
Spread around the wealth as if it were a vicious rumor
Pam, cuts a record like a surgeon cuts a tumor from a brain
(E-Roc: We're all cooped up so feel the pain)
from four hundred years of exploitation
Anesthesia provided by your local TV station
Patience is not a virtue (I ain't waitin)
Turn this shit over like Bush did a boatload of Haitians

How now Brown Cow I'm down with the Mau Mau
Clown downtown tried to put us in the dog pound
like H. Rap Brown with the situation
(Won't get no callouses) cause I'm spittin' dialectical analysis
So how is this, we never had no Funk
until you found out that I turned to revolutionary hunk
(Chump!) Bump you over like dominoes, rat
(E-Roc: So free Geronimo Gi Jaga Pratt!)
Lyrics hear it fear it can't get near it
got a sample didn't clear it
Point Blank says, "Fuck five-oh!" That's the spirit
Cheer it, spat out, the fat that I consumed
Knew that I was doomed since my date of birth
to be the wretched of the earth, never had a Dream that was American
(The golden ?leg to chair again?) Despair again
(But that ain't nuthin new) Told the streets were paved with gold
Whoever paved that shit got minimum wage too!

"Do you understand the metaphoric phrase?" (repeat 3X)
"Do you understand, do you understand..."

(E-Roc: Gunned us, stunned us) exploited and they hung us
I'd like to take a moment to say, "Fuck Columbus!"
(Millions off my back) the black on black crisis is a myth
The crack that did this to us (was the one from the whip)
The record skip, the record skip, the record skip *SCRATCH*
The record skips, cause my voice is kinda scratchy
from yelling, "Oh shit!" when five-oh comes to harass me
They never pass me, no one to go and tail bro
(E-Roc: Trying to kill the movement with the new CoIntelPro)
Leaders they killed, if I said it, it would threaten em
They only see my back because I'm three steps ahead of em
We're not fallin' in the slot you slated
(E-Roc: We realize that our power's nickel-plated)
Masses move as well as asses do, class is through
Our time is over, past it's due
(And you still wanna know) the origin of the flow
OAKLAND CALIFORNIA NINE-FOUR-SIX-ONE-OH

(Yeah, The Coup, comin at you in ninety-three!)
Yeah, and we out y'all...

"Do you understand the metaphoric phrase?" (repeat 3X)
"Do you understand, do you understand..."

sample -- "Blacks are too fuckin broke to be republicans", Ice Cube
(cut and scratched by DJ Pam the Funkstress)

Verse One: Boots

In this land I can't stand or sit
and not get shit thrown up in my face
A brotha never gets his props
I'm doin bellyflops at the department of waste
And everyday I pulls a front so nobody pulls my card
I got a mirror in my pocket and I practice lookin hard
I'm lookin behind me beside me ahead of me
There'll be no feet makin tracks here instead of me
But I can't disregard just what the news says to me
I'm twenty-one, so I've reached my life expectancy
At any minute I could be in some shit that kills my skinny ass
From motherfuckers doin the sellout strut or probably Oakland task
My relationship with OPD has been like one big diss
Long arm of the law, grips my dick so tight it's hard to even piss
So I forgot ain't even got a pot to do it in
Up at the church they're tellin me it's because I live in sin
So I grin, but nevertheless my mind won't dwell
I must be trippin cause I thought I was livin in hell
Capitalism is like a spider, the web is getting tighter
I'm struggling like a fighter, just to bust loose
It's like a noose asyphyxiation sets in
Just when I think I'm free it seems to me the spider steps in
This web is made of money made of greed made of me
Of what I have become in a parasite economy

Verse Two: E Roc

In the winter there's a splinter with the smell of the rain
And the scent of the street, but all I smell is the pain
Of a brotha who's a hustler and he's stuck to the grind
Of a sista who's a hooker gotta sell her behind
Desperation makes her brotha get a little more bold
The circumstance gets deeper when it's damp and it's cold
So I spend my time thinking bout the ultimate gank
Can I get my Coup together pull a move on the bank?
I be the picture perfect hustler for the piece of the pie
But my daddy always taught me just to reach for the sky
Now my dream and aspirations go from single to hoe
As I realize there's a million motherfuckers in the cold
No need to be told, cause when you got a million po' people
Gettin ganked, by a few that are rich and evil
But it's illegal, to wonder how they livin fat
(One two three) everybody get a gat

Verse Three: Boots

Ahhhhhh yeah!
Niggaz, thugs, dope dealers and pimps
Basketball players, rap stars, and simps
That's what little black boys... are made of
Sluts, hoes, and press the naps around your beck
Broads pop that coochie, bitches stay in check
That's what little black girls... are made of
But if we're made of that who made us
and what can we do to change us
The oppressor tries to tame us
here's a FOOT for his anus!
Well since the days when I was shittin in diapers
It was evident the President didn't like us
Assassination attempts I'd root for the snipers
My teacher told me that I didn't know what right was
Well she was wrong cause I knew what a right was
And a left and an uppercut, too
I had a hunch a sucker punch is what my people got
That's why I was constantly red, black, and blue

Outro: E Roc, Boots

(E) Boots, Boots, Boots, you wanna throw some shots out?
(B) Ay man I ain't done with my lyrics yet, that's not cool
(E) Ay, but ain't this a freestyle?
(B) Naw, this is not yet freestyle cause we not yet free
(E) Hey we gonna throw some shots out anyway
*guns are cocked*
(B) Awright fuckit, who y'all wanna throw some shots out to?
(E) Uhh whassup with that uhh Bill Clinton and Al Gore?
(B) Aight, they the new masters up in the White House and everything
Let's throw some shots out
(E) Yeah
*blam, blam blam*
(B) Awright, what about Bush? He on the way out and everything
but I think we need a goodbye for his ass
*gun cocked*
(E) Uh-huh
*blam*
(E) See-ya!
(B) Awright, what about Ross Perot and the good ol boys?
*guns cocked*
(E) The who?
(B) You know who they are, awright
*blam blam, blam*
(B) Ay what about Pete Wilson? (Whassup) That Pete Wilson motherfucker
(E) Yeah whassup wit him?
(B) Awright
*blam*
(E) Got him!
(B) Awright, ay, the L.A.P.D., *guns cocking repeatedly throughout*
The O.P.D., The Richmond P.D., Detroit P.D., ay
(E) Ay fuck it, fuck it, the whole, the whole motherfuckin P.D.
(B) Awright, load up
(E) Yeah, here's a loaded club for yo' ass
*semi-automatic*
(B) Awright, cool -- ay, what about these skinheads?
Ay check it out
(E) I can't stand dem fools
(B) Awright awright, load it up, load it up, awright, cool
*semi-automatic*
(E) Yeah, got em!
(B) Ay, what about these sellout motherfuckers!
(E) Who? *gun cocks*
(B) You know these sellout motherfuckers -- Ellay DuHarris
(E) Who else? *gun cocks*
(B) Tom Bradley
(E) Who else? *gun cocks*
(B) David Dinkins, ay, line em up
(E) Yeah be true to the game
*blam blam blam blam*
(B) Ay, we outta ammo, what we gon do?
(E) Let's get the fuck up outta here
(B) Aight cool, we out

*whistle*
"Dayaam, look at baby's hair over there and shit!
Damn big 1970's Jackson's afro and shit!"

(Boots)
Damn... motherfuckers, always bein like that
Apply three drips, rub softly with your fingertips
And even though you flipped, don't trip cause now you're, hip
And now you slick it, you grease it and you lick it
and you're lookin really wicked but your hair is now called good
You moisturize and texturize and relax-ize and civilize it
but yo I got a 'fro, so a bro's misunderstood
Kitchen in the back, give me dap I got a knapsack
Knick knack Patty's wack, cause in her mind it's firm
that straight is in and out is black
cause black went out with tenament shacks
but beauty is a natural fact so I say, "Fuck a perm!"

B: Hello
D: Yes, I would like to speak to Boots from the rap group The Coop.
B: It's The Coup, and this is Boots. Speak
D: Well my name is Dick Doolittle and I'm a reporter from Grime magazine
and we would like to comment on the tragic riots--
B: Not a riot, it's a rebellion
D: Well the tragic rebellion?
B: Man, tragic for who?
D: Well there's havoc in the streets, the police have lost control over the
people, criminals are running free from jail, and people are actually
taking property from big businesses, it's full of complete chaos
B: That's not chaos, that's progress
D: Mm-hmm, OK, is that your comment?
B: No, this is it


(Boots)
Check it out, it's the motherfucking C-O-U
To the P now you're fucking with the real dudes
Who will meet you with a fleet of brothers in the street
Getting drunk off liberation fuck the Hennessey
Cause you calmly kept us down for far too long
Now you're going up in smoke like Cheech and Chong
And the song "I Ain't the Nigga" is the Constitution
Niggers die but Africans make revolution
So what happens when a people do not get their dues
Well it's tried there's a riot so flip on the news
And let's go reach the 98th here in Oaktown
But let's just say for story's sake that it's in your town
A hundred brothers taking factories, Warren's law is gutters
And now they're handing out free chicken and free peanut butter
Free food to the people, how it should be
But now let's go a few blocks over to 7-3
Channel 2 says at the mall twelve cops got shot
Cause there's eight hundred sisters taking over Eastmont
With nines and AK's doing the right think like Spike Lee
And now their babies got free Pampers and free Nikes
Up at the schoolhouse they said motherfuck a hall pass
Until you teach the truth, check it we ain't going to class
You're teaching lies, we got wise, now we realize
There's no end to this road, you disguised the prize
So peep game for real mental penetration
Our education's liberation

Things ain't gon' never be the same x2

At 6-9 there's a rally and it's swinging
Through the crowd with a thousand voices singing
Once upon a time in the projects, yo
Motherfuckers took over, and now we running the show
We don't give a damn about section eight though
For what we really need we're gonna have to take mo'
The same thing was heard in the A courts
In Kendall Village, across the bay in Fillmore
And in the hills where all the rich folks live
They're in shock we're not failing to vote and build
Instead of brothers on stage singing "Do me"
A black man has a gauge singing "Do this, see?"
All of a sudden everybody is out of jail
But it's funny cause no one is out on bail
And somebody shoved some police against the wall
I guess today they should've worn their clean drawers
Cause an ambulance came, that's the reality
There's now a new meaning to police brutality

All we need is satisfaction
We don't want just a fraction
And we've come to
A conclusion
Revolution is the solution

Check it
Now the uzi's that were once used to kill each other
Are now used to serve and protect the brothers
And the sisters cause they're packing .45's and nines
We're down for revolution not just down for their behinds
Cause the word is heard across the bay and in L.A.
In New York, NY, Chicago, and Atlanta, G-A
We gives a fuck if you've got money and the millions
Cause motherfucker we've got posse in the billions
So break yourself Bush, it's collection day
Break yourself Trump, it's collection day
Break yourself DuPont, it's collection day
You stole the shit from my great granddaddy anyway
The liquor stores around, but they're not selling beer or ale
Motherfuckers selling Molotov cocktails
To the crew, so light up a brew
And this is what is meant by a god damned coup

DJ O on the cut y'all

Ah yes, K-Mack's on the strings y'all

(Boots) E, look man look
(E-Roc) Yeah wassup man
(B) It's that cop man, the one that sent my potna to the hospital
Hey pull over, come on
(E) Coup let's with this hamhock motherfucker, there we go
(B) Hey pig, yeah, remember me?

Verse One: Boots

I know you motherfucker, know where you live
You're the cop that knocked in my partner Greg Wiggins' ribs
And it wasn't in a trip cause he's not a dealer or a pimp
But now he walks with a permanent limp
And pig you make my gut crimp cause my whole family got knocked
Walcy Hawkins and her son's up in double-rock
And it don't stop to the funky beat
Till my people get together and kick you pigs off the street
I grit my teeth why can't I be like Rodney with a camcorder?
Seems we need one every time you get a court order
Or pull me over in order to check identification
I'm in the back of your car with a bruise or laceration
You're in the hood and it's one more disaster
We know you're here to protect and serve the master
Next time you roll through push the gas a little faster
I'll turn your blue suit purple, bastard
Cause

Chorus x2
I know you motherfucker
(Everywhere I turn)
I know you motherfucker
(Everywhere I turn)
I know you motherfucker
(Everywhere I turn I'm assuming the position)

Verse Two: E-Roc

I know you motherfucker, footprints in my door
On my back, on my head, through my house and once more
You called my mother a hoe, you threw my brother in a headlock
You did this to about six thousands on the block
Say you try to stop the rock so it makes me perspire
Hmm...but you work with a supplier
So I inquire what's your role in my elimination?
Ain't got a choir so it sure ain't one of salvation
But if I sung you a song it'd be of damnation
Cause all they do is let me sing in this damn nation
Hey hey hey, hey hey hey, how many kids have you killed today?
Pig, now I realize our relation
Your occupation is to keep me in occupation
How many brothers have you left in a cast?
How many graves have you made in the past?
Useless! Not my task to even ask
But you'd better cease before I put a cap in your ass
Cause I know you

Chorus x2

(Now let me tell ya'll this little little story
This little piggy once came to Oaktown
See, cause this little piggy had a gun
This little piggy's gun was smoking
Cause this little piggy shot my son
This little piggy went wee wee wee all the way to hell!
Cause we stomped a mudhole in his ass, ha ha ha

Verse Three: Boots

I know you motherfucker, my face prints in your knuckles
Hit my head back to the rear and I can hear my knees buckle
And you chuckle...as the blow blurred my vision
You make a game trying to tame me for colonialism
The stars and bars are all you need to make a perfect prison
No chains or fences here so you can make me think I've risen
I'm given rations on the first and fifteenth
Just so I won't be out organizing in the street
And so I'm beaten in the court with charges trumped, see
My eyes is swollen and my nose looks like Humpty's
But I'm not laughing cause I'll take a bath in this one
The judge is looking at me like he wants to have me hung
I never swung, I got the dung kicked out my ass
Like O.P.D. was using me for Beat The Nigger class

(Step one, put the handcuffs on
Step two, say something like "Nigger you'll never learn"
Step three, throw 'em on the ground
Step four, kick 'em of course)

But there's an error in your reign of terror and the end is near
We ain't non-violent no more so get your riot gear
Stand in fear and guard your rear as we gather round
And fuck you up so much, they'll have to fuck you down
Assuming the position that you'll have to wear a bullet-proof vest
On your vest, I suggest you change your address
Cause we know you

(x2)

We know you motherfucker
(Everywhere I turn)
We know you motherfucker
(Everywhere I turn)
We know you motherfucker
(Everywhere I turn I'm assuming the position)

(Big Bird)
Now I shall tell a story that's filled with words
That start with the letter N

(DJ Pam cuts up "Fly lyrics from the bank of reality" --> Flavor Flav)

(Boots)
Step into the world of a nigger, figure
To stay a little while so pack your bag up bigger
First of all just let me introduce you seduce you
Into a frame of mind that's easy to get used to
Nigger hasn't always meant a man with melanin
It used to be a piece of wood that sat on the cotton gin
Masta put it there and it wouldn't move, smooth
So what does it mean, to be a Nigger With an Attitude?
You tell me that a nigger's crazy or lazy
Not about the skin so, don't let it faze me
Well you amaze me, with that ignorant bizull-shizzit
Get a grip on the new fit
Cause that's a lame frame of brain for the nineties
I know the game so it don't sting, my mind sees
So what the fuck you wanna race for the trigger
I ain't the one, I ain't the nigga

"If I'm a slave, I'm a slave to the rhythm" --> Big Daddy Kane
"You know that I ain't the nigga" --> Ice Cube
(repeat 4X)

(DJ Pam cuts up "Niggers, love everything but themselves" --> Last Poets)

(E-Roc)
Nigger is a word we use today, you say
It don't mean the same if you spell it with an A
But that's an argument that makes me itch, I twitch
If I took the T out will I still mean bitch?
My name is E-Roc, and I ain't the nigger main
Save your sellout strut shit for Soul Train
Cause I've been known, to knock a motherfucker out
Without a doubt, The Coup gives me much clout
But there's a factor when I know that my skin is brown
And never ever will I put another brother down (gawwwd damn)
So I make the mental rule to massacre the word
Cause when I hear it, it gets, me straight stirred
It's mental trash so I'm pickin up the litter
I ain't the one and I ain't, the nigger
My people use this word each and every day
You see a nigger, slap a nigger, that's what I say

"If I'm a slave, I'm a slave to the rhythm" --> Big Daddy Kane
"You know that I ain't the nigga" --> Ice Cube
(repeat 4X)

(DJ Pam cuts up "Niggers, love everything but themselves" --> Last Poets)

"Boy I love playing the drums, I can do the grooviest rhythms
I can do rhythms like.."

(Boots)
My attitude is this (what?) don't call yourself a niggerole (why?)
Unless you're just an oakie-doke it'll make you sicker though
Cause it's all about a mind-time mind-frame
The system is a chess game with, pawns all the same (haa haa)
Until we change our mind to ?
Identify yourself, it's a part of being concious (yeah)
If I call myself a gangster then I'll rob you with a gat (yeah)
If I call myself a brother then you know I got your back (yeah)
If I call myself oppressed then I'm clear on where I'm at
But if I call myself a nigger what the fuck is that? (yeah, you know)
Don't be the coolie or the moolie or a boob with the jigger
Don't be the one... don't be the nigga

"If I'm a slave, I'm a slave to the rhythm" --> Big Daddy Kane
"You know that I ain't the nigga" --> Ice Cube
(repeat 4X)

*sounds of smoking, coughing, and choking*
"Do you know what's green?"

*DJ Pam cuts and scratches Cypress Hill "puffin on a blunt"*

(Boots)
Last night I puffed on my last blunt, damn that was a stupid stunt
cause I done said this ten times befo'
that when my life has come to a crescendo, I would let that indo go
but I'm still kissin it like I'm under the mistletoe
So here we go I'm Mork'in with the steady swagger
speakin with a stunt, steady stagger preachin with a Southern drawl
that sounds like Jimmy Swaggart coughed and played it off
Said I know I'm flippin since the last one G my laces are tied
so you can't trip with me, I remember 1988 December
Someone said, "Puff on this before you go up in her"
So I did it and I guess it must have did the trick
She enjoyed it so I guess I must have rocked the clit
Felt like a man and I loved her with an indo trip
Don't know why, cause I couldn't even feel my dick
Ego trip lasted and I'm always gettin blasted but it's drastic
cause sometimes that shit can help you get your ass kicked
Can't buy it with plastic so I'm off to drain the vein for days
I get complaints, cause the neighbors say my house stink
Call myself a saint, cause I won't touch a bowl of food
I gives a fuck, just don't interrupt my Looney Tunes
this afternoon cause I can find a job anytime
Step off my behind I'm in a Doobie Brothers state of mind
Run-D.M.C., AT&T, yo they both Be Illin'
I smoked that blunt for last month's three hundred dollar billin
And I'm willing to admit that when provoked I smoke to cope
but if I didn't take a toke I'd be leadin a street revolt
So I make a mental note, and to my frustration
I decide I can't do shit about the situation
Put the spliff to my lips, flick the Bic and it's on hit
Coulda been my last blunt... but I can't quit
cause then I have to deal with, some motherfuckin real shit
Squeezin me tighter than you gotta squeeze a cow's tit
But on the flip tip I know I gotta get a grip
even though in high school he used to be hip

*coughing*

But shit I'm hockin spit like I thought it was worth somethin
My throat can't take no more, no future in my frontin
But it's rough when you grow up and the tough men roll joints
That's why I been on the bench for marijuana to this point
But it don't faze me though I take it lacadaisical
It takes a while for ways to grow and get out of the old flow
But I'm an old bro, I done passed two decades
I'm wearin shades so my eyes don't reveal the red haze
caused by my yung, cause days like Frankie Beverly
Amazin em back it's tried again, no roaches and no safety pins
Now I'm pennin rhymes about gettin on the wagon
and I get skittish when I think of how the British
put the opium in Asia, fat one to that tactic
Gankin black folks while they daze ya, if you're gettin perved
you're gettin served this economic, like the gin and tonic
Brothers get moronic from the chronic bionic, and it's ironic
cause we're not gettin fucked up, we're just gettin FUCKED
Shit out of luck and we're stuck with our mind in a muck
So don't duck the situation cause I used to smoke fat Taylors
til I figured out that the ganjah was a jailor
Wait a, minute, while I get up in a funky situation
The Coup is coming through, and there's no hallucination
So what the fuck they say that junk is good for meditation
If you smoke a sack, take some Ex-Lax it's mental constipation
there's no hesitation when I'm talkin bout political friction
Stoppin evictions
Government made afflictions and I have an addiction
that's a big contradiction so I must confront it
Cause ain't no revolution gonna come from a blunt

*singers sing "Put the blunt down, oooh-ooh!" 2X*

My partner's cousin's uncle got killed by a shooter
I'm depressed so there's a rumor Boots is gonna hit the buddah
Mary Jane will be alone tonight the only type of hit in sight
comes from Pam the Funkstress, give it to her

*DJ Pam cuts and scratches "blunt"*

(Boots)
I used to kick it with a brother named, Moe
Moe used to kick it with a brother named, Joe
Joe used to kick it with his girlfriend Lateisha
whose brother Elmo, looked like me
Elmo used to elbow lots of brothers in the nose
Kick em when they down and he'd steal they shoes and clothes
Elmo would develop lots of beef as a tweaker
and all of them was mostly come lookin for me
Imagine that, fat motherfuckers with bats tryin
to rat pack, hmm, time to get a gat
So I'm strapped cause I'm trapped like brother Thomas in his fat
momma's lap, what's happenin here's a rap
Saturday twelve o'clock, told E-Roc, the whole block
and what not, about, how men are spottin he said
"This little homey gets bread like flossin
You ain't Steve Austin, Elmo got paws in Boots
Maybe you should move to Boston"
But you get lost when you play like a punk
Pile on the Right Guard I got SERIOUS funk

"I'm trying, not to lose..."
"I'm trying, not to lose my head..." --> Melle Mel
(repeat 2X)

[Boots]
Bet George and Bootsy, never had funk like this
catch twenty-two, twist no fist can dismiss this
rip that I'ma go through, maybe I can flow through
this whole ordeal and not pull out the black steel
and my friends make suggestions...
that I should squeal to the cops but that's out of the question
If I die by the trigger of a misled brother
could he be judged by the system that is scared of me and others?
I believe no, so I don't go, with the flow
even though I'm bout to roll with no paddle
up a creek called shit, light is lit on the situation
Cause me and him is gonna decrease the population
Now we wonder why our revolution never grow
Killin motherfuckers just for steppin on our toe
If we had as much funk for our oppressors as we did
for ourselves, the blood would never flow again
And then, the uzis that were once used to kill each other
Could be used, to serve and protect the brothers
And the sisters and the cousins or whatever others
But the funk keeps growing like a fungus...
I'm trying, not to lose...
I'm trying, not to lose my head... --> Melle Mel
(repeat 2X)
That's Elmo, get that fool Yeah get that fool
Ay, I'm Boots, I ain't Elmo -- I'm Boots from The Coup!!
[Boots]
Four years til I'm twenty-five, now I got a forty-five
caliber don't take no jive, just pull to fix
Don't want to be eighty-sixed, three six and six ain't in my mix
Don't flap your lips about me takin no, trips
You won't be takin no sips from a milk carton
seein my face with a caption, askin
Have you seen Boots, he's missing in action
This shit is more Off the Wall than Michael Jackson
Cause brothers who be doin brothers who be doin others
screwin brothers but The Coup be doin more than shoo-be-doin
on the corner, talkin revolution from Victoria to Florida
It's why it don't make sense that they want me a goner
on a, run cause some brothers in a ratpack think I'm
poppin junk cause they don't see for centuries
the genocidal funk so I'm a punk if I don't blast they ass
But I gots more funk for the rulin class
Will it ever end, will we ever win, drinkin juice and gin
Five-oh gets again, gets off with a grin
National Guard sent in for when we got beef
You wanna pop the trunk we got serious funk

"I'm trying, not to lose...
"I'm trying, not to lose my head..." (Melle Mel)
(repeat 4X)

*** spellings of the names of people in this outro may not be accurate ***
Aight, back it up
I wanna say whassup to the brothers and sisters that really got my back
when the funk be on
Of course it goes without saying, that E-Roc and DJO from The Coup
got my back at all times and at all costs
Same goes for D-Force and Sneaker, Point Blank
J-Post and Stone of the Outcasts
Osajih Po from the Tenth Planets
Chuck Da Pharoah got my back
Evo got my back, Rose got my back
Niko and the whole Mau Mau Rhythm Collective
got my back cause I got theirs
The funk is on, and African Identity is there
The funk is on and Midnight Voices is there
The funk is on and T-More and Twin from Elements of Change are there
And I'm there for Cindy, I'm there for 3rd Rail
I'm there for Aztlan Nation
I got your back Leftside Sim
I got your back Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy 'cause you got mine
All y'all got my back, Neckbone got my back with the sax
Problem Child got my back with the piano
Aiy y'all let's fade out, but before we fade
I wanna say rest in peace to Plan B, we out

1986 a motherfucker doin tricks on the mix and I don't mean the fader
Face of zits but gettin grits with black steel firesticks
Drama buildin Empire somethin like Darth Vader
Now Lonzo was armed with nuttin but a mean mug
(But tucked a forty-five, with forty-five slugs)
He was a jitterbug thug, at the dance, cuttin a rug
(Treatin his sisters like a hooker) Greetin his partners with a hug
Breakdown shakedown, this brother would take a pound
of some soon to be cake grounds, and then go make rounds
Firearms protectin wads of gorgeous greens
Paper stacks of paid tax off of broken dreams
At puberty his liberty was found within a key
Rocks were cookin but he's lookin' for a way to be free
Here's a key (there's a key) but Lonzo, where's yours?
There's no key to the door, but there's money on the floor
(So stoop down) Bend over (hurry pick it up fast)
But watch out, Lonzo -- YOU'LL GET FUCKED IN THE ASS

"A bad, a bad, a bad bad man!"
"Do, do, you know dis kid?" Lonzo!
"A bad, a bad, a bad bad man!"
"Do, do, you know dis kid?" Lonzo!
"A bad, a bad, a bad bad man!"
"Do, do, you know dis kid?" Lonzo!
"A bad, a bad, a bad bad man!"
"Do, do, you know dis kid?" Lonzo!

Knock knock (who is it?) time to visit but it's two years later
Cause Lonzo's rollin harder and it's 1988
He's got some fat he's got some mo' greens (and a brand new Benz)
He's got respect and he suspects that it won't end
A couch is still a couch (and a chair is still a chair)
But a house is now a crackhouse Luther, Lonzo's there
Dying brains, dying bodies, too and from these dead residence
Try in vain to kill they pain, exchangin, dead presidents
Many bourgeoise parlei francoise (I don't speak it but I know it)
It's all the same (the business game) but you go to jail for this shit
We were tribal our survival was now based on stoppin rivals
Who's the fittest, as I raise my fists up can't survive and not be ruthless
(So why be straight, and scratch the bones
And a cellular phone, somebody's sittin on the throne
'Cause they don't let, black folks own)
THEY JUST GIVE US THIS SHIT ON LOAN, kick it

"A bad, a bad, a bad bad man!"
"Do, do, you know dis kid?" Lonzo!
"A bad, a bad, a bad bad man!"
"Do, do, you know dis kid?" Lonzo!
"A bad, a bad, a bad bad man!"
"Do, do, you know dis kid?" Lonzo!
"A bad, a bad, a bad bad man!"
"Do, do, you know dis kid?" Lonzo!

Ahahaha, what was I finished saying?
(Aww yeah Lonzo's back in the County man)
Damn we'll go visit him on Sunday when we visit Dee aight?

(Madge says that Bounty is the quicker-picker-upper)
Well Lonzo says the County is the slipper, tripper, stucker
Years of unsettled funk and who gets what bunk junk
Makes you feel like you took a test and flunked
(But don't get disturbed or perturbed; the teacher's
on my last nerve, plus he grades with a downhill curve)
Told Lonzo kick it, the system is wicked, trick it, predict it
We got a way to lick it, gave him a book, said, "Here's the ticket"
(Now he's addicted) to learnin how we been afflicted
And what distributin that shit did
I made a quick bid to say, "Don't trip kid
You never worked for the mob" (You had a government job)
Lonzo knew I was right, no fight, now we're tight
(Plus he been out of jail about a year ago last night)
Now he hangs with us poor revolutionary brothers
And five-oh, more than ever wants to fuck us
Just cause we know the road to riches is crooked and narrow
WE'LL GET MORE POWER FROM A HUNDRED THOUSAND GUN BARRELS

"A bad, a bad, a bad bad man!"
"Do, do, you know dis kid?"
"A bad, a bad, a bad bad man!"
"Do, do, you know dis kid?"
"A bad, a bad, a bad bad man!"
"Do, do, you know dis kid?"
"A bad, a bad, a bad bad man!"
"Do, do, you know dis kid?"

[Нет текста]

(Boots)
Ahhhhhhh yesss, ah-heh
Tell me somethin
Were you, about to make a decision?
Was it, one of... THOSE decisions?
Ya know, when ya, gotta decide, between
What's good, for you? And what's good, for the struggle
Well before you sellout, The Coup wants to tell you a lil' story
E-Roc, kick it

(E-Roc)
Pressure, is gettin to my dome, see
I need some food for my little boy's tummy
Pulled up a chair just to think about my situation
Don't have a job, 'cause jackin is the occupation
Fuck The System, you know that it's all wrong
I got my gauge, yeah now my mission's on
Checked on my baby, good he was sound asleep
'Cause money was my thoughts as I began to creep
Down the street the corner store, was on my mind
"Freeze!" with the sounds of clips was in my behind
I turned around but before I could pull my trigger
In they ass, on the ground, laid another nigger
I was trippin', slippin' labelled as a dummy
But can you blame me, I did it for da mo-ah-money

Brothers on the block making bankroll
The billion dollar dream is the dream for the cash flow
Little do they know they're a little or a big hoe
But they have a car they can side at the sideshow
I'm the type of brother that'll tell another "Hell no"
To the seller struck hiking rocks in a hellhole
Whether you can slide you can glide in your hoo-ride
But you're gonna drown in the high tide of genocide
Brothers give my five but it's live jive
Can't understand with their hands in a beehive
I'mma take a risk on the dis take a big dive
Just to make it rhyme on time I'll say "Overdrive"
Missed 'em I'm not with them but they're victims
Cause they're just a part not the start of the system
No hocus pocus that's the focuse of the song
Hope that you can learn this and one day sing along
A clearly cut case co-opted by The Coup
An exposé of foul play against me and you
Sing it

It's funky, it's funky, it's funky, it's a funky situation
It's funky, it's funky, it's funky, it's a funky situation
It's funky, it's funky, it's funky, it's a funky situation
It's funky, it's funky, it's funky, it's a funky situation
(Still don't nothing move but the money)
(Man Boots what you talking about?)

Explicit and implicit are the exploits
I'm speaking of the society that's living off me
No jumps and coast to coasting in a Detroit
No I am a factor that they don't need
Cause labels are stable in this big world
Talking 'bout sex, you're a boy or a girl
Talking 'bout a kind you're a jerk or the jerker
Talking economics you're the boss or the worker
Right about now I'm gonna change the flow
Going straight up like my new wave afro
I say it and they play it
Do you hear me though you're guessing there's a lesson
But teach me, I want to know
Conjunction junction what's my function?
Connected with the genocidal pace of a race reduction
Funny there's no money for my people's production
The Coup is not through cause we've got some gumption
A victim in a system about cold cash
If you don't make it then they treat you like trash
Dispose of you tonight if not in the morning
This is not a prophecy, this is just a warning
A clearly cut case co-opted by The Coup
An exposé of foul play against me and you
Sing it

It's funky, it's funky, it's funky, it's a funky situation
It's funky, it's funky, it's funky, it's a funky situation
It's funky, it's funky, it's funky, it's a funky situation
It's funky, it's funky, it's funky, it's a funky situation
Hey hold up we're about to let the DJ scratch here
(Well let him scratch then)

...

At times I find my mind can think fast
Like when a pig has a trigger saying nigger that's your ass
Thoughts of a slave master rise from the past
The past is the present cause I still feel the lash
It's against the law just to be black
Cause the war on drugs is just thugs on the attack
The C is not the source of course so just get back
Why try a lot, I doubt it's just about crack
Brothers on the block making bankroll
Maybe could the dream be the dream of an overthrow?
If so no mo' we'll play the big toe
In a shoe that's cramped so break a brother's sole
Slip and stuck slowly to the same game
Several hundred years we have been in a chain gang
Let our shackles only add on to a migraine
Old fame, thoughts of pain slowly drive me insane
But then I started rapping for The Coup
A lot of rappers out there just looking for the pay-off
Listen to the message that the Boots brings to you
The Coup is just a group to bring order out of chaos
People pick problems out and isolate
Misguiding many to think it's a mistake
Well I'm the Boots and I'm here to set 'em straight
My information leads me to think there's foul play
A clearly cut case co-opted by The Coup
An exposé of foul play against me and you
Sing it

It's funky, it's funky, it's funky, it's a funky situation
It's funky, it's funky, it's funky, it's a funky situation
It's funky, it's funky, it's funky, it's a funky situation

(Hey, how are you guys fixing to pay?)

Now check it, the topic of discussion
Is more than a financial profit
United Snakes won't stop it
Blow for blow, the flow with the commentary gets
Seventy-six septillion tons a-spinnin'
Steady steppin into a new phase
New thoughts representing our slavery days
The seeds of weeds and crops is much more than you figure
Yo, if he's a black man he must be a nigger
They make a gimmick I wouldn't doubt
A sucker selling out for the sake of a scream and shout
Elements don't grow with nonsense
Rather kick a little bit of science
Science about controlling actions of another
America was built on the sweat of black sisters and brothers
Never allowed to breathe but allowed to bleed and breed
Stripped of our creed and religion surviving on intuition
And what the master said, give 'em
And besides the black man is the original lord of the land
So I'm clenching my right hand
Brothers and sisters we must fight this slumlord
Overlord of the concrete jungle, but I'm humble
As I witness my opponent crumble
Like the shack that I live in the house that I rent from him
Roach infested I'm sure that the rats are nesting
The heat doesn't work he still hasn't checked it
Disrespected me for the last time
I loaded up the nine stepping double time
Bullseye
Another point scored
Right between the eyes of my landlord

Verse Two: Defrost

They tell me to hold my peace but I just can't
But I'm Defrost of the rap group of Point Blank
So me I'm chilling at the table with my family, hypothetically

The situation, hard for me to handle

I heard a bang, bang, bang at my door

While they sitting at the table, trying to say grace

Now I got three meals and a roof over my head

Cash is made in lump sums

Don't you know not to fuck with the mao mao

We didn't vote on it, this land was bought and sold

I learned the game and I became a revolutionary

I need $600 by the end of the week

I want to kill my landlord, murder in the first degree

And I laugh 'cause America is not my home

Landlord, I got a little message for you