[Verse 1: Chuck D] Damn back again, up on track again Some of y'all black again it got dark On your mark get set Out of sight out of mind Hyprocites forget like marionettes Strings in the back like nets The chosen one who can laugh themselves to d**h Lack of rhymes, meaningless punch lines Battle for your mind, like Israel and Palestine Good news there is some hard a** times No more disses, repeated hook lines and chorus' Days of doris' Got issues and wishes Got the jam but gettin paid up off the misses Ain't nothin wrong but wait f** another love song It's the R&B strangler bringing noise in the Wranglers Rock all the heads big times and alzheimers Shot the pill while I drop sk**s up in Brazil Now the pitch Lord save us from that sword of Davis That kidnap hip-hop tracks and the beats in the game of rap Put my soul in it Care less about the gold in it Boom the shootie Got 'em running from the paparazzi La di da di, when the feds come and doom your party Cracker in the back, don't you know it's illuminati Ain't nothing changed, P.E. we be the same crew Resurrection in the game here to save you [Flava Flav] Yo it's going down baby, it's going down family That's my word We gettin ready to turn this sh** to the two and three zeros Ya know what I'm sayin Have all the clocks goin backwards Have everything goin haywire You lauged before let's see you laugh now blue cow How now black cow Word to bird, word to bird, word to bird, n***a [Verse 2: Chuck D] One on one, hard like tarot cards Behold, the one man million man march Takes a nation, 400 year violation Apocalyptic no power in this happy hour Hazardous, no you don't like lazarus Just black baby Where my soul be at Star spelled backwards is rats Let bra man rap I'm trapped in the back with these industry cats One step forward two steps back Making habits claiming habitats Ratta tat tat Wish you could turn back the hands of time And get mental Pop the track eight track Lincoln Continental I'm the mouth that roared, swore to the Lord The eye of hawk, both live and die by the sword The forbidden The six man be sinning from the beginning The s**ers hand be hidden Intense Knocking your block with some sense P.E. got more j**els than dead presidents The devil try to get me cross like a crucifix But I am focused on the vultures like a loc of locusts New world order is goin' down Gettin round, I'm the spook that sat by the sound f**ing with Saddam will bring a new Saigon Ain't nothing changed, P.E. we be the same crew (boy) [Flavor Flav] Yeah that's right, 9-8, no joking We coming out smoking And for all y'all that's been sleeping on us You're lacking you're lacking Aiyyo, check 1-2 I've got my mand that's about to sneak up on you and your crew Ya know what I'm saying Check 1-2 Aiyo Masta k**a I want you to put one up in 'em son And show 'em you ain't done son Ball 'em with the back of the gun son, make 'em run son [Verse 3: Masta k**a] Sliding down Broadway beneath the J line Slumped in the incline position Mind travellin beyond the shell Which holds the soul controlled by the Allah I be most humble but also punishable For those who are unlawful to righteousness I strive to stay alive and live this Many fell victim to the wisdom I mastered this The track ovulates the mic like prostate gland imperegnates Onto the paper the pain pours For the love of my brother that hurts just the same f** fame My gun I bust to maintain Moods are insiduous Baffels and eludes those who label the God being anti-social Chose not to apply their third eye I travel at the speed of thought rate It's fatal What will enable a man to levitate [Flavor Flav] And you can take that and put that on the back of your brain Coming straight to you from Masta k**a Ain't nothin' iller I told you PE is still in full effect beyond the year 2000 We ain't taking no shorts and y'all need to know that to make your head fat, boy