Songtexte: Fall. Hostile.

Nobody ever gave him a good turn. What do you expect? He was always let
down. They never wanted to let his action down. But also they wanted it
sublime [capitalism] and [equarty] equally. He was always in the middle
for him. On the fields of Brooklyn. They said tone it down. Hill
understood
them. But he is hostile.
We are the elite gansters of the damned, criminals of the damp. Just
troubadours, and put-down to hostiles.
For years they have believed we were inspired by the Holy Spirit and the
work of God. They still recognize that many prominent M.C. members are

wondeful people. They're warm, intelligent, but terribly misguided.
Slowly, painfully, he become disillusioned. They call us "shadowy."
Anti-hostile. They demand to know, with a touching, naive faith of the
individual.
Hostile.
Many times, brothers, have they tried an aesthetic against rhythmn. And
now we're old, elite of the damned. Anti-hostile.