[Verse 1 - Black Thought]
Move, if you got the nerve
Lash out for your just deserts
It's not just a word
Some of y'all heads up in the clouds
I'mma bring y'all back to earth
It's Black back to burn
The Bullshit y'all talkin' 'bout
Out ya mouth. I'm not concerned
Cause y'all got to learn
It's y'all turn like Detroit Red
When his head had an ultra perm
The long walk will burn your bare heels
So throw on your boots
The game camouflaged like army suits
But I can see it more clear cause I came with the Coup in here
Ring the alarm and form the troops
Send 'em out into the world, go to war in a fluke
Eye to eye with the enemy you sworn to shoot
Now I'm comin' at ya neck, sick of hearing something wrong with me
Motherfucker something's wrong with you
With a Chief just way too smart to question
The enemy the brothers of a dark complexion
The governments of the world is shark infested
They heavy on weaponry like Charlton Heston
Man yeah it gets low here uh, real low
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
[HOOK]
[Verse 2 -Boots]
Death to the pigs is my basic statement
I spit street stories 'til I taste the pavement
Tryin' to stay out the pen while we face enslavement
Had a foolproof hustle 'til they traced the payments
I was grippin' my palm around some shitty rum
Tryin' to find psalm number 151
To forget what I'm owed, as I clutch the commode
And read "put down the bottle and come get the gun"
Let's get off the chain like Kunta Kinte with a MAC-10
They want us gone like a dollar in a crack den
Steadily subtracting seeds & stems
Mind cloudy through the wheeze and phlegm
Numbing my brain off of that and the Jesus hymns
If we waiting for the time to fight, these is thems
Tellin' us to relax while they ease it in. We gettin greased again
The truth I write is so cold, It'll freeze my pen
I'm Boots Riley it's a pleasure to meet you
Never let they punk ass ever defeat you
They got us on the corner wearing pleather and see thru
All y'all's gold mines they wanna deplete you
I ain't just finna to rap on the track, I'm finna to clap on 'em back
And it's been stackin' to that
Five hundred years before Iceberg ever leaned back in the 'lac
Before they told Rosa black in the back
Before the CIA told Ricky Ross to put crack in the sack
And Gil-Scott tradin' rappin for smack
This beat alone should get platinum plaques
I'd rather see a million of us ecstatic to scrap
Cause if we bappin' 'em back we automatically stacked
[HOOK]
[Verse 3 - Talib Kweli]
This the cut like truancy
Riq, Boots and me
Activatin' the community
Up in the bay like Huey P
And sucker free, it remind me of the BKer's love for me
But the beast got it twisted, I'll untangle it
Black mind intertwined like the ropes they used to hang us with
This is my favorite shit, I came in the game with a new way to spit
That got you questioning who you bangin' with
Take it back to Imhotep
Go a step deeper like a Poor Righteous Teacher with Holy Intellect
Killer flow for all my real niggas left
But inform the family of the jigaboo that there's been a death
Once again you can feel hip-hop
Underground, still about my guap
Gangsta like, fuck the cops
Talib Kweli revolutionary MC, and that ain't about to stop
[HOOK]
Move, if you got the nerve
Lash out for your just deserts
It's not just a word
Some of y'all heads up in the clouds
I'mma bring y'all back to earth
It's Black back to burn
The Bullshit y'all talkin' 'bout
Out ya mouth. I'm not concerned
Cause y'all got to learn
It's y'all turn like Detroit Red
When his head had an ultra perm
The long walk will burn your bare heels
So throw on your boots
The game camouflaged like army suits
But I can see it more clear cause I came with the Coup in here
Ring the alarm and form the troops
Send 'em out into the world, go to war in a fluke
Eye to eye with the enemy you sworn to shoot
Now I'm comin' at ya neck, sick of hearing something wrong with me
Motherfucker something's wrong with you
With a Chief just way too smart to question
The enemy the brothers of a dark complexion
The governments of the world is shark infested
They heavy on weaponry like Charlton Heston
Man yeah it gets low here uh, real low
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
[HOOK]
[Verse 2 -Boots]
Death to the pigs is my basic statement
I spit street stories 'til I taste the pavement
Tryin' to stay out the pen while we face enslavement
Had a foolproof hustle 'til they traced the payments
I was grippin' my palm around some shitty rum
Tryin' to find psalm number 151
To forget what I'm owed, as I clutch the commode
And read "put down the bottle and come get the gun"
Let's get off the chain like Kunta Kinte with a MAC-10
They want us gone like a dollar in a crack den
Steadily subtracting seeds & stems
Mind cloudy through the wheeze and phlegm
Numbing my brain off of that and the Jesus hymns
If we waiting for the time to fight, these is thems
Tellin' us to relax while they ease it in. We gettin greased again
The truth I write is so cold, It'll freeze my pen
I'm Boots Riley it's a pleasure to meet you
Never let they punk ass ever defeat you
They got us on the corner wearing pleather and see thru
All y'all's gold mines they wanna deplete you
I ain't just finna to rap on the track, I'm finna to clap on 'em back
And it's been stackin' to that
Five hundred years before Iceberg ever leaned back in the 'lac
Before they told Rosa black in the back
Before the CIA told Ricky Ross to put crack in the sack
And Gil-Scott tradin' rappin for smack
This beat alone should get platinum plaques
I'd rather see a million of us ecstatic to scrap
Cause if we bappin' 'em back we automatically stacked
[HOOK]
[Verse 3 - Talib Kweli]
This the cut like truancy
Riq, Boots and me
Activatin' the community
Up in the bay like Huey P
And sucker free, it remind me of the BKer's love for me
But the beast got it twisted, I'll untangle it
Black mind intertwined like the ropes they used to hang us with
This is my favorite shit, I came in the game with a new way to spit
That got you questioning who you bangin' with
Take it back to Imhotep
Go a step deeper like a Poor Righteous Teacher with Holy Intellect
Killer flow for all my real niggas left
But inform the family of the jigaboo that there's been a death
Once again you can feel hip-hop
Underground, still about my guap
Gangsta like, fuck the cops
Talib Kweli revolutionary MC, and that ain't about to stop
[HOOK]
( The Coup )
www.ChordsAZ.com