: Killing in the name of Some of those that work forces, are the saints that burn crosses Now ya do what they told ya Don't you die or justify You'
fuckas lost their minds No escape from the mass mind rape Play it again jack and then rewind the tape Play it again and again and again Until ya mind
: The movie ran through me The glamour subdue me The tabloid untie me I'm empty please fill me Mister anchor assure me That Baghdad is burning Your voice
: Every official that comes in Cripples us leaves us maimed Silent and tamed And with our flesh and bones He builds his homes Southern fist Rise through
: This microphone explodes, shattering the molds Ya either drop tha hits like de la O or get tha Fuck off tha commode Wit tha sure shot, sure ta make
: YEAAAH! [Zack de la Rocha] The world is my expense.. The cost of my desire.. Jesus blessed me with its future.. And I protect it with fire.. So raise
: It's just another bombtrack And suckas be thinkin' that they can fade it But I'm going to drop it at a higher level 'Cause I'm inclined to stoop down
: [Zach de la Rocha] Transmission, third World War, third round A decade of the weapon of sound above ground No Shelter if you're looking for shade I
: [Zack de la Rocha - *whispering*] My fears hunt me down.. Capturing my memories.. The frontier of loss.. They try to escape across the street where
'll break in Something must be done About vengeance, a badge and a gun 'Cause I'll rip the mike, rip the stage, rip the system I was born to rage against
: The main attraction - distraction got ya number than nnumber than numb Empty ya pockets son; they got you thinkin that What ya need is what they sellin
: [Zack de la Rocha] Coolin' on the scene like a horse in a stable A brother got ill, and tried to snatch a fat cable I stepped back, like it wasn't
: [*whispers*] Feel the funk blast.. Feel the funk blast.. FEEL THE THE FUNK BLAST!! FEEL THE FUNK BLAST!!! A-FEEL THE FUNK BLAST!! Yo, yo, yo, yo,
: Solo, I'm a soloist on a solo list All live, never on a floppy disk Inka, inka, bottle of ink Paintings of rebellion Drawn up by the thoughts I think
: You tell me you like the taste You just need an excuse You tell me it calms your nerves You just think it looks cool You tell me you want to be different
opposite then ask if the brother's done I get a craving like I fiend for nicotine But I don't need a cigarette, know what I mean? I'm Raging, ripping
old Tom Joad Now Tom Said; "Ma, whenever ya see a cop beatin' a guy Wherever a hungry new born baby cries Whereever there's a fight against the blood
: Down on the street where the faces shine Floatin' around i'm a real low mind See a pretty thing in a wall See a pretty thing in a wall In a wall In
