Nappy Heads

Why am I trapped in a cage? (The nappy heads are comin' out) Barber can I get a fade? (The nappy heads are comin' out) Teacher teacher check my grades (The nappy heads are comin' out) I grab the mic in a rage! You maintain to put a negro in pain, you used to diss me You sure you wanna hang with old Eddie Kane Ain't nuttin' wrong, so snap your head to the song Word is bond, you get wrong, I'll have you sing like Louis Armstrong And I say to myself, what a wonderful world But what the fuck was so wonderful 'bout pickin cotton, on a farm? The harder they come, the harder they fall, so come one come all Don't stall or I'ma stick you like a voodoo doll Doors locked stop draw for the count, who drops? Ten-nine-eight-seven-six-five-four-three-two-one You-slept-on-a-kid-from-the-boondocks Out of Hooterville land of the ill kill Bellsburg Viking so you know I'm top ranking Phil Some say newcomer like the yuma but save the rumor 'Cause I've been rockin ever since '83 When I used to rock my Pumas Rap, narcotic psychotic so hear the sentencin' One out of ten, I'm passin' the mic next time I'll get wicked Heard the man who went before, got intimidated You tried to gas me up, too much gas, you got intoxicated You wasn't ready for the real'n, dealin', chillin' Wyclef, no competition when I'm bringin' pure death I'm jumpin like a monkey to get mines off A-from a caterpillar, to the mic moth (The nappy heads are comin' out) Teacher teacher check my grades (The nappy heads are comin' out) I coulda sworn I had an A (The nappy heads are comin' out) I grab the mic in a rage! You put, one and one together now you think you a rapper Baseball cap backward, forearms swingin' like a hip-hopper You do the rhyme, thinkin' no one can stop ya I be the followin' that chop ya down as I clock ya, hah When I say five-oh, I mean fifty not guns or cops Now here's the heavyweight knocker, the freedom fighter Natural rhythm rock a mic I always rhyme I'm never drinkin vodka Any old style, I throw it in a locker Well I'm a cool chief rocka, I never drank no vodka Me got no bag of cheeba 'cause I never had a knocker My cousin's name was Shaka, for short we called him 'Aka I flip it on wack MC's because to me they flow like caca You boogie move the groove, nothing to prove you lose Your style remind me of yesterday, old news Sad sung blues who's, chose the one to feel the pain Or bring the cane, tick-tock I come to pick your lock It's not a capital gain So watch out for the remain, or cry from bloodstain Bustin' nuts, bustin' style Gettin' buckwild some think I'm the descendant of a wilder child Comin' on the mic, from a higher level Broke is no joke choke the hell out of the devil (The nappy heads are comin' out) What about Martin? (The nappy heads are comin' out) What about Malcolm? (The nappy heads are comin' out) Rosa Parks? (The nappy heads are comin' out) You hung a man after dark (The nappy heads are comin' out) Cease the violence (The nappy heads are comin' out) Yo who got the power, to make a man raise from the dead? Some said that it was Jesus, they said he was a notty dread But I don't mean to confuse a world that's confused Mind's atomic, so like a bomb, let me drop it Can't get too deep, 'cause some sleep while I wake In a dream that's made of wine but let me bring it back to grapes Teacher, explain the parable, it's simple It's easier for the camel to go through the eye of a needle Than for you to enter the kingdom, or battle And walk away, with the title when I get, brutal Feelings are mutual so sign your life, to Prudential Don't even flinch, the other becomin' spiritual There's six million ways to die but choose four 'Cause I can still be in the desert buttnaked and be hardcore! When I say checks that means pump your fist Remember Moses people, this is Exodus Don't try to stop this, the force comes from Genesis Them who did us wrong, ask the Lord for forgiveness The land that I'm from ain't the land of the dumb We droppin' the bass drum, then we put your heads on a tombstone You can't kill the battle with a horn, blam blam, silly Joshua So march to St. Lawrence Yo march I got your back, march! Crown Heights (The nappy heads are comin' out) Cease the violence (The nappy heads are comin' out) A moment of silence (The nappy heads are comin' out) For those who died (The nappy heads are comin' out) Public Enemy (The nappy heads are comin' out) Number one (The nappy heads are comin' out) Frederick Douglass (The nappy heads are comin' out) Harriet Tubman (The nappy heads are comin' out) Aristide (The nappy heads are comin' out) Bob Marley (The nappy heads are comin' out) Prazwell (The nappy heads are comin' out) To my man Khalid (The nappy heads are comin' out) Now, speak of resistance, we're nappy heads Rhymes, kinks, braids and dreads The mother of creation, epitome of creativity, yeah And keep your heads nappy