[Verse 1 – Fellowman]
Drunk on some slave sweat, paid with a blank check,
dressed in Sunday best, but not ready for the grave yet,
pearl-handled steel revolver, filled with plea deals and offers,
pills and proverbs—I've got to kill my father.
He sold the union's soul, now he's afraid to be too exposed,
so he deep-six scrolls that prove his role
in both the old and new Jim Crow,
Truman Show, Wounded Knee, who controls the currency,
interest rates, redlines, loans and the police?
Sick from the wine of violence, threw up in the pail,
blood is not thicker than the liquor of betrayal,
six black churches burned to the ground,
it's just another week in the belly of the whale.
I'll go to the city of Nineveh,
the sinning of men that are hateful,
they could put a stop to the pain,
but instead they to continue to claim it ain't racial.
So fuck Lincoln, the proper model is John Brown.
Go ahead, police my tone, tell me to calm down.
Tell me how disappointed you are that I'm not proud,
then let me pick out some red cotton for your coffin shroud.
Mastodon stomp Babylon,
you know they're acting wrong,
what would you sacrifice
to see the palace gone,
Crumbled into rubble and spat upon?
Asalaam alaikum, I'll make 'em awaken Absalom.
[Verse 2 – Jamarc]
Nat Turner, John Brown,
your fist ain't raised, you best sit down,
you should be afraid in the USA
if you're tryna get away with enslaving us now.
Who got the whips and grips and shit now?
Turning up with that clack sound.
Feel that thump up in your soul?
That's how you know there's a new black in town.
We ain't backing down, we're a faction now,
when the government says they're cracking down,
we got a squad for them men in black when they come 'round
and we all bang, we ain't acting loud.
Went to DC and packed it out,
not even BET had their cameras out,
I guess Gil Scott really had the facts back then,
cuz the revolution ain't getting action now.
I don't really care if you're scared of me,
please, don't take it personal,
I'm fighting for the right to be me,
outside of getting vertical.
Criminalized in a criminal's eyes,
villainized, manhood effeminized,
inner-city enterprise gets demonized,
sick of this shit and can't get immunized.
This here is the thirty-third degree,
homie said “burn it down,” that's when it occurred to me
that regardless of the outcome of Bernie, Hillary,
this is all just a game in the Valley of the Kings.