Now let’s see I’m the biggest and the badest, I’m dumb rich and my women be the phattest, I cooked coke to make cake, did a bid upstate, and got a tool to make jake vacate. You know the story, rags to riches and glory, stitched a few snitches who tried to ruin it for me. A lot of niggas rap but so many do it poorly, the super nigga’s back here to enhance the story. I aced archetype 101, majored in crack and minored in the way of the gun and since the 96 act of telecommunications consolidated ownership over radio stations - I’m guaranteed to get played on the air, now wave your hands like you just don’t care – they like me cause I’m not spike lee, I’m nigga nigga nigga in a fresh white tee. You’d never find me at a protest; they make their money off the ghetto being hopeless. I’m a role model cause people up top would rather have kids pick me than Malcolm X to follow. Sell that crack, kill that nigga, don’t fight back just be a good nigga – sounds easy but it takes hard work to roll dr. king’s body when it’s under the dirt – if he was young now, he’d be trying to get paid, dirty south dr. bling ice grill and the shades, his first album might be called I have a dream but every last track would be about making some cream

One part ghetto – one part system – two parts ignorance, just add rhythm, now you’ve got the formula for success on how to make money off the violence of the oppressed. I’d rather put the tool to the president’s chest than get a XXL for hiding under his dress, most niggas in the industry need to confess, they never knew that black face faked it’s death.
Reality check (repeat)

Who’s that? It’s son of nun black, splitting suckas from they caps to they ass crack – digging in them hacks giving them a flashback, no jerrycurl pat you can’t have your cash back – but tell Reagan that I’m pissing his grave a little trickle down revenge from the son of a slave – chained to the wage but trained in the ways of working class revolution till the end of my days – how you put the ghetto on display without talking bout the good ol’ boys who made it this way – you holding 5 mics but got nothing to say, if you aint trying to roll then stay the fuck out my way. Socialist – vocalist got the government choking this – hoping this never gets played and people start-quoting this cause they might just start throwing fists and bricks at pigs and Molotov’s at the governor’s uppity digs for executing black people like the cracker he is, I’m kidnapping his kids to go to inner city schools where they’ll live and die by inner city rules. got a contribution for the heads of state, it’s about 4 pounds and it seals your fate, I got a hate for evil doers maybe you can relate, I’ll be the one burning the u.s. flag at your wake – class war going on outside no man is safe from, I know my enemies because I stay awake son – I stand strong with my comrades, brown, red, white, asian, and a-rab - I bitch slap capi-ta-lists, like where’s my motherfucking reparations you dick, like slaves to a master when they holding the whip, or like hookers to a pimp when they holding the clip

Now for the record execs writting the checks stacking the decks with music that be wack as my ex, get back in the lex cuz I'm a start snapping your necks and you can tell them FM dj's i'm attacking them next! DJ's these days are cliche, predictable catch phrase with cyclical track plays, they're pitiful wax slaves on business plantations. The only phrase that pays is "obey the corporation." They don't even pick the music at the station, so Klan propaganda stays in heavy rotation but I'm putting politics back in the mix and taking hip hop back to the bricks I'll put a cap in the myth and if I'm caught then I'm jacking the fifth. Either that or self defense cuz I have to resist. My music is a weapon, insurrection strapped to a disc, organized to bring about demise of capitalist. Don't get it twisted baby, I'll take it back to Haiti, Black Jacobin attacking men that's trying to slay me. I'm a dark skinned marxist marksman sparking rebellion everywhere that I'm marching. I've got politics, roll with a lot of cliques and when the time comes we gon' load a lot of clips. Now throw your hands up and show me your fist cuz you know they got our names on a government list.