Preme - Internal Contradiction lyrics

[Huey P. Newton: “One of my principles is that contradiction is a ruling principle of the universe, and everything—and phenomena, whether it's the physical world, or the biologic world, or the social world, has its internal contradiction that gives motion to things—that internal strain. And much of the time that we h*mo sapiens don't realize that no matter what sort of conditions we establish, no matter what government we establish, at this point, there also will be that internal contradiction that will have to be resolved, and resolved in a rational, just way. And, of course that leads us to somewhat—it's very vague on how to deal with it. And many times we claim actions are revolutionary, when really they're not.”] [Verse 1: A.D. Carson] They want rap, not a tap dance minstrel show So they can't help but wanna follow where my pencil go I'm like the ghost of Wu Tang's Bobby Digital's an*log catalog Trapped inside your stereo Not mercurial, but open to change Came during the drought when you was hoping for rain Praying to HOV. I was opening lanes On the right side, solo, joking and playing. It's like ‘Beat Street' meets Oscar The Grouch— Traditions that used to exist, got argued about And took over—consumerism hollowed ‘em out Now everybody's scratching heads, like “What's the problem about?” If you can't see the boogey man but you spooked And you can tell a lot about a tree from the roots Then it don't really matter what you do to the fruit ‘cause you ain't eatin' what you thinkin' is like venom to you I represent n***as that been in the booth— Spittin' truth, so our peers call us venerable Ladies get disrespected, and dinners are few So they all *bear a tone* like a *ten or a two,* But be careful who you mention it to ‘cause I got sisters, a mother, and living is proof That they're queens, no borough, and itching to prove That I'll put you Down Under like a didgeridoo. Murder metaphor, red caped matador n***as k** n***as every day, why battle for a title ‘cause if you look like me, you're my rival But mix it with some ignorance, and you can be my idol I'm ‘bout to remix 'America the Beautiful' To ‘The Takeover' beat, I'm sure it'll be suitable Write three rhymes, solidify me undisputable Start a revolution, have ‘em play it at my funeral And print my name on they t-shirts, black, solid with Prophecies spoken by Socrates with politics That's paradoxical—on a beach somewhere tropical Sippin' daiquiris with 2Pac, Scott LaRock and Obama *Solemn*—alaikum is the statement Peace to the people, pray you never be complacent And never strive for parallel if you were born adjacent Simple statement: I'm saying always strive for greatness Yes, yes [Reporter: “Are you not, perhaps, afraid of what might happen to you as a result of making these revelations?” [Malcolm X: “Oh, yes. I probably am a dead man already.” “No. I don't worry. I tell you, I'm a man who believed that I died twenty years ago. And I live like a man who is dead already. I have no fear whatsoever of anybody or anything.”]