Tytuł: I'm a African

• Wykonawca: Dead Prez
• Wyświetleń: 299

  
   Yo turn this motherfucking shit up!
  Ha ha ha
  Rwanda, Nigeria, Africa's in the house
  My nigga D.R.
  
  [Verse 1]
  Nigga the red is for the blood in my arm
  The black is for the gun in my palm
  And the green is for the tram that grows natural
  Like locks on Africans
  Holdin the smoke from the herb in my abdomen
  Camouflage fatigues, and daishikis
  Somewhere in between N.W.A. and P.E.
  I'm black like Steve Biko
  Raised in the ghetto by the people
  Fuck the police you know how we do
  
  [Verse 2]
  Ayo my life is like Roots it's a true story
  It's too gory for them televised fables on cable
  I'ma a runaway slave watching the north star
  Shackles on my forearm , runnin with the gun on my palm
  I'm an African , never was an African-American
  Blacker than black I take it back to my origin
  Same skin hated by the klansmen
  Big nose and lips, big hips and butts, dancin, what
  
  HOOK:
  I'm a African
  I'm a African, uhh
  And I know what's happenin
  I'm a African
  I'm a African, uhh
  And I know what's happenin
  You a African?
  You a African?, louder
  Do you know what's happenin?
  I'm a African
  I'm a African, uhh
  And I know what's happenin
  
  It's plain to see, you cant change me
  cuz I'm a people army for life
  
  Where you from fool?
  
  [Verse 3]
  No I wasn't born in Ghana, but Africa is my momma
  And I did not end up here from bad karma
  Or from B-Ball, selling mad crack or rappin
  Peter Tosh try to tell us what happened
  He was sayin if you black then you African
  So they had to kill him, and make him a villain
  Cuz he was teachin the children
  I feel him, he was tryin to drop us a real gem
  That's why we bucking holes in the ceilin when we hearin
  
  HOOK
  
  A-F-R-I-C-A, Puerto Rico, Haiti, and J.A.
  New York and Cali, F-L-A
  No it aint 'bout where you stay, it's bout the motherland
  (repeat 2X)
  
  [Verse 4]
  It's like tank top, flip flop
  Knotty dread lock, fuck a cop, hip hop
  Make your head bop
  Bounce to this, socialist movement
  My environment made me the nigga I am
  Uncle Sam came and got me and arrested my fam
  Try to infiltrate and murder off the best of my clan
  I'm not American, punk, Democrat, or Republican
  Remember that, most of the cats we know, be hustlin
  My momma work, all her life and still strugglin
  I blame it on the government and say it on the radio
  (What) and if you don't already know
  All these Uncle Tom ass kissin niggas gotta go