| (feat. Pep Love, Jog9) | |
| [MC Zion:] | |
| Yo, R.I.P. to my warrior's gone | |
| Stokely, George Jackson, Huey ??? | |
| If you feelin me, we should be, family | |
| Vanity, hold us back mentally, my brother be strong | |
| Til the time come, wisdom upon the drum | |
| Where we come from guns clap the sun | |
| Lemme visual, lifestyle hate habitual | |
| Proceed with caution, niggaz ritual | |
| [Pep Love:] | |
| Return of the black William Wallace | |
| 2002 Shaka Zulu with two black steel revolvers | |
| In the community, all of us | |
| Got to get involved cause that's the law for us | |
| Mr. Officer, we don't want no trouble | |
| We just doing our black thing, making our own government | |
| You'll be lucky if you don't get locked up | |
| Shackled, chained, and dropped off, picking all of the cotton | |
| [Chorus: Pep Love, MC Zion] | |
| It's time to get this shit crackin | |
| It's time to do this warrior dance, turn thought into action | |
| It's time to loosen up your bones | |
| Get on the dance floor, time to get it on | |
| To all my people in the struggle! (Where ya at?) | |
| We gotta bubble! (Where ya at?) | |
| To all my people in the streets! (Where ya at?) | |
| Rock to the beat! (Where ya at?) | |
| [Pep Love:] | |
| I speak sporadic war tactics when my metaphors backflip | |
| Perform black magic then I chop 'em with my war hatchet | |
| Cultivate the crop so we can cop the proper yield | |
| When we drop the real shit, we keep it poppin! | |
| Don't make me start chuckin spears up in here | |
| I got words for your ears and a bucket for your tears | |
| A threat for your fears - I'm set | |
| On this revolutionary concept that we slept on for years | |
| [MC Zion:] | |
| I'm just like Hannibal when I ramble through | |
| Make moves, elephant tough, voodoo crew | |
| Phenomenal, writer, skill of a crimefighter | |
| Make mine divine will intice ya | |
| Tighter than Lycra, my microphone | |
| One height be gone, the type of mind to leave blown | |
| I could just, cry a river, the plight of my niggaz | |
| We die, for five figures don't lie, it happens | |
| [Chorus] | |
| [Pep Love:] | |
| I'm hot under the collar but melanin keeps me cool | |
| Twelve sinner if you think me fool | |
| Watch my obsidian glow, peep my ebonical flow | |
| I heave all over the beat and let my self go | |
| I'm coming through the lane throwing elbows | |
| You won't ask no mo', they keep saying "Hell no!" | |
| We gotta take reparations, so make preparations | |
| For the invasion of the alien nation | |
| [MC Zion:] | |
| Yo, I might change the world, this place need a makeover | |
| B-Boys, B-Girls, this a takeover!! | |
| Rap fanatic, the flag got static | |
| Flying at half mast but we way past tragic | |
| Flow subliminal, make my mic mineral | |
| Take my flight general, can't we strike veniful | |
| I'm at the show where it go down | |
| David got a stone in the zone, he wanna throw now! | |
| [Pep Love:] | |
| Who's the criminal? Show me your leader I'ma let him know | |
| We'll let the children and the women go | |
| Me and my generals prepare for war | |
| We are war-i-ors not scared of y'all | |
| [Chorus] |
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