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