I got a call, "what's your plans for the 4th?" I said "stay in,
it's really hot, ain't really got shit I feel like celebratin',
kids in cages cuz a racist administration
saw fit to make this nation driven by prison slave ships,
but that's consistent with original principles,
make indigenous criminals, give the rich the residuals,
same system chop the welfare, keep my pockets threadbare,
how I look watching the rockets' red glare? Fuck that."
He said, "that's what I inferred, I had heard
the same thing from a lotta folks this year, kinda perturbed,
but hey, it's still July the 3rd, if you change your mind
I could use a ride from work, I'm tryna catch the fireworks."
I said, "dog, stop it dead there,
the fireworks symbolize the bombs we drop everywhere,
global fear since the commie red scare,
what you think goes through an Iraqi's head when he sees the rockets' red glare?
Think about it."

Oh, oh, and the rockets' red glare.

The first summer I lived here was nothing like this year,
a dumb fucking kid with a beard chugging some piss beer,
humping his fixed gear to the park for the display,
meet up with my grad school friends and hit j's.
Banjo music on the big stage, white folks
waving the same banner as those that wear the white cloaks.
Obnoxious ren faire, deep in Thomas Jeff's lair,
not a shred aware, watching rockets' red glare.
The next year I partied in a gentrified hood,
separated from the poor parts, protected by woods.
Live music for the occasion
provided by a reggae band that was 100% caucasian.
It felt terribly sick,
celebrating freedom with music by people who were slaves in 1776,
but I never heard the topic said there, tank tops and chest hair
too enthralled by the rockets' red glare.

Oh, oh, and the rockets' red glare.

Denzy said the block party was in full effect.
I said, "fuck it, get the crew and let's head for the 'jects."
I didn't want to be part of the patriot weirdness,
but something seemed to be drawing me to make an appearance.
The *baka baka blaow* sounded like the Gaza Strip,
then I saw the smiles and the grills with the sausages,
chief rocker Dev there, roman candle pop and send prayers
to the sky through the rockets' red glare.
Building community against all odds,
represent all squads, unfence all yards,
little kids playing clap games,
joy through the haze of the smoke from the flash bangs.
Then somebody with a Fox News stare
musta called the law, told them which block and who's there,
'cuz pretty soon the needle got lifted off the chopped & skrewed fare
as the people dispersed beneath the cops' blue glare.