Well I got things to do/ and people got things to
say.
Said I got work to do/ and the people find time to play.
Babylon system is stuck in a slow modem/
why yall persisting to fuck with the promoe when. No rapper that
rise against me shall ever prosper/
rhymes written in the bible, revolutionary rasta. Take an eye for
an eye and a toth for a tooth/
I tell a lie for a lie and a truth for a truth. I spit a line
after line over loop after loop/
to make your mind intertwine with brain food at the root. Cus we
all gotta eat but I ain't sellin' my soul/
cus man can't live by them belly alone. I'm hard to reach trust no
cellular phones/
cus the government agents wanna follow we 'round. Electronic
transmittors picked up by satelites/
I'm writing rhymes in a room lit up by candle lights. And I'm
spittin... in the wind, of changin' times/
in the name of unchaining minds... so
Chorus:
All of a sudden when you sick/ off all of that government music.
Just call and I'll come with that new shit/ just call if you love
revolutions.
Call on this sub level nuisance/ ball you could bloody well lose
it.
Come on call if you run with a crew which/ is armed with a gun and
a full clip.
Pointed at the business give me points and tour
support/
and creative control or end up in the war report. Us against them
David versus Goliath/
I'm bustin' at them aim at jerks with cold fire. Old pirates rob I
of my songs of freedom/
songs that we've done Promoe comes from Sweden. Needn't no further
introduction/
in a world of wack music my shit serve as interruptions short
breaks from a reality that's really unreal/
where record companies want you to sign a dumb deal. Then they're
swallowing your following like a bottle in a fridge/
they suck you dry and leave your body in a ditch. They steal your
golden days then when you're old and grey/
they done found new blood to mold and clay. And if you're bold and
play make sure you read the terms/
a life long contract till you feed the worms... but,
Chorus
Yo you can call me on the 1-800 hotline/
listen closely go out and cop mine. Or you the type to drop dimes
and call the cops? fine/
bring your glocks, nines ain't nothing can stop mine. Though life
is one big road with alot of stop signs/
and I carry a big load as long as I rock rhymes. I do not mind,
the bullshit: behind/
love will conquer all evil. It's easier for Heavy D to enter
through the eye of a needle/
than for the government to be buying my people. Your smile is
deceitful, plastic, colgate white/
get it smashed if your flow ain't tight. Now if that happen to me
I'd spit blood on the tracks/
till it's cluttered with facts and women cuddle the wax. Love to
the max physical and spiritual/
natural, lyrical miracle... yo,
Chorus
Well I got things to do/ and people got things to
say
Said I got work to do/ and the people find time to play...