Vollständige Version anzeigen : Public Enemy - Lyrics
1989 the number another summer (get down)
Sound of the funky drummer
Music hittin' your heart cause I know you got sould
(Brothers and sisters, hey)
Listen if you're missin' y'all
Swingin' while I'm singin'
Givin' whatcha gettin'
Knowin' what I know
While the Black bands sweatin'
And the rhythm rhymes rollin'
Got to give us what we want
Gotta give us what we need
Our freedom of speech is freedom or death
We got to fight the powers that be
Lemme hear you say
Fight the power
Chorus
As the rhythm designed to bounce
What counts is that the rhymes
Designed to fill your mind
Now that you've realized the prides arrived
We got to pump the stuff to make us tough
from the heart
It's a start, a work of art
To revolutionize make a change nothin's strange
People, people we are the same
No we're not the same
Cause we don't know the game
What we need is awareness, we can't get careless
You say what is this?
My beloved lets get down to business
Mental self defensive fitness
(Yo) bum rush the show
You gotta go for what you know
Make everybody see, in order to fight the powers that be
Lemme hear you say...
Fight the Power
Chorus
Elvis was a hero to most
But he never meant ---- to me you see
Straight up racist that sucker was
Simple and plain
Mother---- him and John Wayne
Cause I'm Black and I'm proud
I'm ready and hyped plus I'm amped
Most of my heroes don't appear on no stamps
Sample a look back you look and find
Nothing but rednecks for 400 years if you check
Don't worry be happy
Was a number one jam
Damn if I say it you can slap me right here
(Get it) lets get this party started right
Right on, c'mon
What we got to say
Power to the people no delay
To make everybody see
In order to fight the powers that be
(Fight the Power)
Hit me
Going, going, gone
Now I dialed 911 a long time ago
Don't you see how late they're reactin'
They only come and they come when they wanna
So get the morgue embalm the goner
They don't care 'cause they stay paid anyway
They teach ya like an ace they can't be betrayed
I know you stumble with no use people
If your life is on the line they you're dead today
Late comings with the late comin' stretcher
That's a body bag in disguise y'all betcha
I call 'em body snatchers quick they come to fetch ya?
With an autopsy ambulance just to dissect ya
They are the kings 'cause they swing amputation
Lose your arms, your legs to them it's compilation
I can prove it to you watch the rotation
It all adds up to a funky situation
So get up get, get get down
911 is a joke in yo town
Get up, get, get, get down
Late 911 wears the late crown
911 is a joke
Everyday they don't never come correct
You can ask my man right here with the broken neck
He's a witness to the job never bein' done
He would've been in full in 8 9-11
Was a joke 'cause they always jokin'
They the token to your life when it's croakin'
They need to be in a pawn shop on a
911 is a joke we don't want 'em
I call a cab 'cause a cab will come quicker
The doctors huddle up and call a flea flicker
The reason that I say that 'cause they
Flick you off like fleas
They be laughin' at ya while you're crawlin' on your knees
And to the strength so go the length
Thinkin' you are first when you really are tenth
You better wake up and smell the real flavor
Cause 911 is a fake life saver
So get up, get, get get down
911 is a joke in yo town
Get up, get, get, get down
Late 911 wears the late crown
Ow, ow 911 is a joke
Rinkin twinkin body shakin
Nuff attackin brain's a rackin
Clock tockin Chuck shockin
Flavor Flav ain't never shavin
one, two, three four
Verse One: Chuck D
It's another record, check it, mad methods
To put my brothers and sisters on a deathbed
You know he cheated, took what he wanted but now you blunted
Suckin up to the devil steppin down a level
It's who they fear is you
Who protects us from us and you from you
Yes and it counts [**** the fourty ounce]
I sued them bastards, yeah they got bounce
I did em like a demo {threw em out the window}
I took a 98 cause I never liked a limo
But pump pump pump pu-pump pump it up
A mad rhyme, for mad times, that's what's up
Some ain't gonna change, I got em in a range
I gotta rearrange, so I'm buildin back your brain
Wreckin records with funky stuff
Am I loud enough? {yeah} You got ta give it up
Chorus: Flavor Flav
Give it up, give it up, give it up yo
Give it up, give it up, gotta give it up
yeah
you gots ta give it up now
Verse Two: Chuck D
Come again with the same old bounce
I'm calling a foul and once again it counts
Mad tense mad tense brothers know
The blunts in the back got the black behind and that's wack
[And once again it's on!]
Hey Jimmy cracked corn cracker singin "I don't care", it's on
I'm comin with a rhyme [what?] I'm lettin go a rhyme [yeah!]
I gotta get a rhyme through the rough and crazy times
Call me a Hannibal lecture, yes I checked her
They don't hear me though, so here I go
I'm sick and tired so Sly'll take ya higher
When I'm takin his sound to bring you down
Rappers rippin a lyrical kickin finger-lickin
But to the rhythm I'm givin but never cotton pickin
Like James Brown I'm sayin it loud
Am I loud enough? Huh, you got ta give it up
Some ain't gonna change, some ain't gonna change
Some ain't gonna never ever change
Some ain't gonna change, some ain't gonna change
Some ain't gonna NEVER EVER change!
Chorus
Interlude: Chuck D, Flavor Flav
And when I'm coming, some young dumb and fulla cum
Some second guessing my lessons about saving young
Some don't know like Run said so here we go
Where it is inside, whoop there it is
{aaaaaaah} There it is
[There it is, damn right
My man X is a bad mother {shut your mouth)
I'm talking about Terminator, he's the man]
There it is, can you hit me off with another one
Chorus
I never did represent doing dumb shit
Some gangsta lying - I'd rather diss Presidents
Dead or alive, bring em and I'll swing em
I vocalize, I just rap, I don't sing em
Flick em, and I fling em, you can go with em
Hall of Fame for the game for the points I Dave Bing em
Go Grandmama, close but no cigar
I got mine, for I'm using my rhyme
The flow go wherever I want, and that's clever
Give a piece of my time, to prevent some crime
And who behind puttin the guns to the young ones
The ones that make em is the ones that take em
Rugged for no reason, down in duck season
I don't want my mama, on the street wearing armor
So check yaself before ya wreck yaself
Respect yaself, hah, you got ta give it up
Chorus
Chorus:
It might feel good
it might sound a little somethin'
but damn the game if it don't mean nothin
what is game who got game
where's the game in life behind the game behind the game
I got game
she's got game
we got game
they got game
he got game
it might feel good
or sound a little somethin
but **** the game if it ain't saying nothin
Chuck D:
if man is the father the son is the center of the earth
in the middle of the universe
then why is this verse coming six times rehearsed
I don't freestyle much but write 'em like such (word)
amongst times controlled by the screen
what does it all mean all this shit I'm seeing
human beings screaming vocal javelins
sign of the local nigga unravelling
my wonderin' got ass wonderin'
where Christ is in all this crisis
hating satan never knew what nice is
check the paper while I bet on ices
keep more than your eye can see and ears can hear
year by year all the sense disappears
nonsense preserves prayers laced with fear
beware the two triple o is near
Stephen Stills:
there is something happening here
what it is ain't exactly clear
there's a man with a gun over there
tellin' me I got to beware
it's time to stop children what's that sound
everybody look what's going down
Chuck D:
thought of that millenium just be killing them
it scary like lies buried in a library
when did state pen correct anything
when piles of us still be catchin' the bus
DJ Kid Krush
14-08-2001, 16:12
Bass in your face
Not an eight track
Gettin' it good to the wood
So the people
Give you some a dat
Reactin' to the fax
That I kick and it stick
And it stay around
Pointin' to the joint, put the Buddha down
Goin', goin', gettin' to the roots
Ain't givin' it up
So turn me loose
But then again I got a story
That's harder than the hardcore
Cost of the holocaust
I'm talin' 'bout the one still goin' on
I know
Where I'm from, not dum diddie dum
From the base motherland
The place of the drum
Invaded by the wack diddie wack
Fooled the black, left us faded
King and chief probably had a big beef
Because of dat now I grit my teeth
So here's a song to the strong
'Bout a shake of a snake
And the smile went along wit dat
Can't truss it
Kickin' wicked rhymes
Like a fortune teller
'Cause the wickedness done by Jack
Where everybody at
Divided and sold
For liquor and the gold
Smacked in the back
For the other man to mack
Now the story that I'm kickin' is gory
Little Rock where they be
Dockin' this boat
No hope I'm shackled
Plus gang tackled
By the other hand swingin' the rope
Wearin' red, white and blue Jack and his crew
The guy's authorized beat down for the brown
Man to the man, each one so it teach one
Born to terrorize sisters and every brother
One love who said it
I know Whodini sang it
But the hater taught hate
That's why we gang bang it
Beware of the hand
When it's comin' from the left
I ain't trippin' just watch ya step
Can't truss it
An I judge everyone, one by the one
Look here come the judge
Watch it here he come now
I can only guess what's happ'nin'
Years ago he woulda been
The ships captain
Gettin' me bruised on a cruise
What I got to lose, lost all contact
Got me layin' on my back
Rollin' in my own leftover
When I roll over, I roll over in somebody else's
90 F--kin' days on a slave ship
Count 'em fallin' off 2, 3, 4 hun'ed at a time
Blood in the wood and it's mine
I'm chokin' on spit feelin' pain
Like my brain bein' chained
Still gotta give it what I got
But it's hot in the day, cold in the night
But I thrive to survive, I pray to god to stay alive
Attitude boils up inside
And that ain't it (think I'll every quit)
Still I pray to get my hands 'round
The neck of the man wit' the whip
3 months pass, they brand a label on my ass
To signify
Owned
I'm on the microphone
Sayin' 1555
How I'm livin'
We been livin' here
Livin' ain't the word
I been givin'
Haven't got
Classify us in the have-nots
Fightin' haves
'Cause it's all about money
When it comes to Armageddon
Mean I'm getting mine
Here I am turn it over Sam
427 to the year
Do you understand
That's why it's hard
For the black to love the land
Once again
Bass in your face
Not an eight track
Gettin' it good to the wood
So the people
Give you some a dat
Reactin' to the fax
That I kick and it stick
And it stay around
Pointin' to the joint, put the Buddha down
Goin', goin', gettin' to the roots
Ain't givin' it up
So turn me loose
But then again I got a story
That's harder than the hardcore
Cost of the holocaust
I'm talin' 'bout the one still goin' on
I know
Where I'm from, not dum diddie dum
From the base motherland
The place of the drum
Invaded by the wack diddie wack
Fooled the black, left us faded
King and chief probably had a big beef
Because of dat now I grit my teeth
So here's a song to the strong
'Bout a shake of a snake
And the smile went along wit dat
Can't truss it
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