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| 4. |
| 3:52 | 
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Verse 1)
Yeah.... Harlem streets stay flooded in white powder Like those motherfuckers runnin' away from the twin towers Gunshots rock the earth like a meteor shower Bowling For Columbine, fear, giving the media power Innocence devoured like a chicken spot snack box Government cocaine cooked into ghetto crack rock Corrupt cops false testimony at your arraignment Check to check, constant struggle to make the payments Working your whole life wondering where the day went The subway stays packed like a multicultural slave-ship It's rush hour, 2:30 to 8, non stoppin' And people coming home after corporate sharecroppin And fuck flossin, mothers are trying to feed children But gentrification is kicking them out of their building A generation of babies born without health-care Families homeless, thrown the fuck off the welfare (Hook) Homicide Harlem, BLAOW!, what's the problem? Homicide Harlem, BLAOW!, what's the problem? Homicide Harlem, BLAOW!, what's the problem? Homicide Harlem, BLAOW!, what's the problem? (Verse 2) It's like Cambodia the killing fields uptown We live in distress and hang the flag upside down The sound of conservative politicians on television People in the hood are blind so they tell us to listen They vote for us to go to war instantly But none of their kids serve in the infantry The odds are stacked against us like a casino Think about it, most of the army is black and latino And if you can't acknowledge the reality of my words You just another stupid motherfucker out on the curb Trying to escape from the ghetto with your ignorant ways But you can't read history at an illiterate stage And you can't raise a family on minimum wage Why the fuck you think most of us are locked in a cage I give niggaz the truth, cause they pride is indigent You better off rich and guilty than poor and innocent But I'm sick of feeling impotent watching the world burn In the era of apocalypse waiting my turn I'm a Harlem nigga that's concerned with the future And if you're in my way it'd be an honor to shoot ya Uproot ya with the evil that grows in my people Making them deceitful, cannibalistic and lethal But I see through the mentality implanted in us And I educate my fam about who we should trust (Hook) Homicide Harlem, BLAOW!, what's the problem? Homicide Harlem, BLAOW!, what's the problem? Homicide Harlem, BLAOW!, what's the problem? Homicide Harlem, BLAOW!, what's the problem? |
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| 5. |
| 4:49 |
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I'm obnoxious, motherfucker can't you tell?
Run through Little Havana yelling "Viva Fidel!" Jerking off with the sheets, when I stay at hotels Drinking Bacardi at AA meetings, smoking an L I'm broke as hell, my attitude is no good Like working for white people after watching Rosewood So I'm a mercenary, I don't care how I get richer Like American companies that did business with Hitler Get the picture nigga, I'm the best of both worlds Without the hidden camera, and the 12 year old girl Let's face it you're basic, you aren't half the man that I am I'll throw your gang sign up, and then I'll spit on my hand Give me a hundred grand, give me your watch, give me your chain That's your girl? Bitch get over here, give me some brain! I'll bust off on her face, and right after this segment She'll probably rub it in her pussy, trying to get herself pregnant I said it I meant it, that's the way I deal with enemies Like pro-lifers, that support the death penalty And don't talk about war, when niggas know that your puss A fucking hypocrite draft-dodger like George Bush Don't push me nigga, cause I'm close to the edge And I'll jump off with a rope that's wrapped around your head Send a death fetus to my ex on Valentine's Day The safety's off nigga, so get the fuck out my way Obnoxious nigga, murderous lyrics, I know that you hear it Now that I'm getting closer and closer I know that you feel it You eating off rap, and I hope you choke on your gimmick Niggas said hip hop was dead, but I invoking the spirit We're taking it, back in the day to the Golden Age When whack motherfuckers used to get thrown off stage Immortal Technique, I made this the bump in your ride Or burn it off the Internet, and bump it outside Nigga, we keeping it live, we keeping it live We keeping it live, we keeping it live Burn it off the fucking internet, and bump it outside Look motherfucker, my words damage and slaughter A raging alcoholic like the President's daughters Disgusting flows like third world country tap-water But before I hit the border, someone give me a quarter Cause I'm a prank call, Cop-Shot, just for kicks Pay back, for everytime that they called me a spic And Puerto Rican chicks tell me that I fuck like I'm loco (crazy) And Dominican women call me the rompe toto (pussy destroyer) They call me osioso (obnoxious), I'd rather get fired than quit I get unemployment, you work and we making the same shit How dare you niggas criticize, the way that I spit You coffee shop revolutionary son-of-a-bitch But you know what the fuck I think is just pathetic and gay When niggas speculate, what the fuck Pac would say You don't know shit, about a dead man's perspective And talking shit will get your neckbone disconnected Disrespected, niggaz don't "show no love" Why you trying to be hardcore, you fucking homo thug And don't be sensitive and angry at the shit that I wrote Cause if you can take a fucking dick, you can take a joke I'll choke your friends in front of you, to prove that you be falling off And you won't do shit about it, like the Church during the Holocaust Kalashnikov machine gun flow that I fire Obnoxious until they shoot me on the day I retire Obnoxious nigga, murderous lyrics, I know that you hear it Now that I'm getting closer and closer I know that you feel it You're eating off rap, and I hope you choke on your gimmick Niggas said hip hop was dead but I awoken the spirit We're taking it, back in the day to the Golden Age When whack motherfuckers used to get thrown off stage Immortal Technique, I made this the bump in your ride Or burn it off the Internet, and bump it outside Nigga, we keeping it live, we keeping it live We keeping it live, we keeping it live Burn it off the fucking internet, and bump it outside Daaaaamn homie, in high school I beat the shit out of you and your man homie Your girl wanna blow me and don't even know me She lonely and she think you a phony I'll take a piss on a development deal from Sony, or Def Jam Cause you like, all of the rest man This ain't a verse, this shit talk at the end of the song And you can suck a dick, if you think I ended it wrong Fuck you and I'm gone, fuck ya'll niggas! Piece to the strong hold, EO dub Word-A-Mouf, Forbidden Chapters IAK niggas, westpoe killing you slow The plague; I murder a show, you don't even know Yeah, foul play nigga Harlem! |
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| 6. |
| 3:55 | 
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| 7. |
| 3:39 |
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(feat. DJ Rocraida)
[Verse 1] Yeah nigga, Immortal Technique, metaphysics The bling-bling era was cute but it's about to be done I leave ya full of clips like the moon blocking the sun my metaphors are dirty like herpes but harder to catch like an escape tunnel in prison I started from scratch and now these parasites want a percent of my ascap trying to control perspective like an acid flashback but here's a quotable for every single record exec get your fucking hands out my pocket nigga like Malcolm X but this ain't a movie, I'm not a fan or a groupie and I'm not that type of cat, you can afford to miss if you shoot me curse to heavens and laugh when the sky electrocutes me Immortal Technique stuck in your thoughts darkening dreams No ones as good as good as me, they just got better marketing schemes I leave ya to your own destruction like sparking a fiend cuz you got jealousy in ya voice like star scream and that's the primary reason that I hate ya'll faggots I've been nice since niggaz got killed over 8-ball jackets and Reebok Pumps that didn’t do shit for the sneaker I'm a heatseaker with features that'll reach through the speaker and murder counter-revolutionaries personally break a thermometer and force feed his kids mercury A&R's try jerking me thinking they call shots offered me a deal and a blanket full of small pox you're all getting shot, you little fucking treacherous bitches [Hook] This is the business, and ya'll ain't getting nothing for free and if you devils play broke, then I'm taking your company you can call it reparations or restitution lock and load nigga, industrial revolution [Verse 2] I want fifty-three million dollars for my calloused hands like the Bush administration gave to the Taliban and fuck packing grams nigga, learn to speak and behave you wanna spend twenty years as a government slave two million people in prison keep the government paid stuck in a six by eight cell alive in a grave i was made by revolution to speak to the masses deep in the club toast to truth, reach for your glasses I'll burn an orphanage just to bring heat to you bastards innocent deep in a casket, Colombian fashion intoxicated of the flow like thugs passion you motherfuckers will never get me to stop blastin' you better off asking Ariel Sharon for compassion you better off begging for twenty points from a label you better off battling cancer under telephone cables Technique, chemically unstable, set to explode foretold by the Dead Sea scrolls written in codes so if your message ain't shit, fuck the records you sold cuz if you go platinum, it's got nothing to do with luck it just means that a million people are stupid as fuck stuck in the underground a general, that rose to the limit without distribution managers, a deal, or a gimmick Revolutionary Volume 2, murder the critics and leave your fucking body rotten for the roaches and crickets [Hook] |
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| 8. |
| 4:47 |
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DANGER! BEAT BANDITS, NIGGA!
Yeah...Harlem to Chicago to LA..To Toronto...Philly...Motherfucker Rio de Janeiro nigga...Capetown, South Africa! I never make songs to disrespect women Or to judge people, about the way that they living But the way I am is based on the life I was given Like them white boys, "losing my religion"! I used to be a Christian and a political pawn The Bible is right and all your native culture is wrong Next thing you know you telling me bout making a song Come in a studio and tell me that I'm making it wrong Pissed off cause reality is making it strong Like the ghost of Timothy McVeigh making a bomb Hey yo Marvin Gaye, what the fuck is going on? These rap niggas making propaganda out of your song But it's the gong show, amateur night at the Apollo My dick is like my music but harder to swallow So children follow me like the Pied Piper And sing the chorus in the air with your blunt and lighter You played yourself thinking you down with me I'll end your life nigga don't fuck around with me And if you kids can't listen then you bound to see The way you get shot for crossing the boundary The second verse is worse than the first in this respect Scripted specifically to keep people in check Harlem to Boston real niggas spit with me But Landspeed you ain't fucking shit to me And underground labels know that I don't trust you And you only independent till you major so fuck you And if you pissed off cause you think that I dissed you I'll rape your mom so we can make this a personal issue Dance with the devil Remember that you're not on my level Stupid you're not ready; I won decipher Bragging Rights and Rock Steady And practically every battle that they got in New York And I still murder rappers on the streets for sport Dr. Guillotine, cutting you short, little man But you don't give me props cause I never won at Scribble Jam? Well fuck you, I hope someone you love dies so fuck your crew And fuck your family too Technique said it bitch, what the fuck you gonna do? You played yourself thinking you down with me I'll end your life nigga don't fuck around with me And if you kids can't listen then you bound to see The way you get shot for crossing the boundary Immortal Technique incinerate degenerate fags Burn Trent Lott wrapped in his Confederate flag I got the beretta with my face wrapped in a rag So put the African slave jewelry in the bag Motherfuckers tell me that a diamond is forever But is it worth the blood of Malcolm and Medgar Evers? House niggas get your head severed trying to be thug You don't concern me, I'm trying to hurt the people you love Word of mouth is I'm in the club being sneaky I'm like the bodysnatchers and your girl is getting sleepy I'll murder you, indiscreetly, right at the source Like the Roman legionare that stabbed Christ on the cross This about Judo It ain't about Jesus And you shouldn't fucking talk about telekinesis Nigga please; moving shit with your mind? Try moving your mom out the projects with your rhymes And next time: I'm coming after cual quiera (what you want) Profanity, fuck it carajo maldita mierda (fucking damn shit) Roll up the hierba, y pasa la para izquierda (weed, and pass it to the left) Put the price up to listen to listen to meek pop shit Cause I got Martha Stewart giving me stock tips Underground money with honeys up in the whip Bangbus.com nigga fucking your bitch Yeah...played yourself, nigga. Fuck all ya'll. You don't know shit about me, don't ever open your mouth and discuss who the fuck I am. I thought I told ya'll niggas on Vol. 1, I wasn't fucking around, and you just slept, because you sold a few thousand units in the Golden era, when niggas'll buy anything on the shelf. Those days are through, and you're through with them. |
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