This time the bullet cold rocked ya

A yellow ribbon instead of a swastika

Nothin' proper about ya propaganda

Fools follow rules when the set commands ya

Said it was blue

When ya blood was red

That's how ya got a bullet blasted through ya head

Blasted through ya head

Blasted through ya head

I give a shout out to the living dead

Who stood and watched as the feds cold centralized

So serene on the screen

You were mesmerised

Cellular phones soundin' a death tone

Corporations cold

Turn ya to stone before ya realise

They load the clip in omnicolour

Said they pack the 9, they fire it at prime time

Sleeping gas, every home was like Alcatraz

And mutha fuckas lost their minds

Just victims of the in-house drive-by

They say jump, you say how high

Just victims of the in-house drive-by

They say jump, you say how high

Run it!

Just victims of the in-house drive-by

They say jump, you say how high

Just victims of the in-house drive-by

They say jump, you say how high

Checka, checka, check it out

They load the clip in omnicolour

Said they pack the 9, they fire it at prime time

Sleeping gas, every home was like Alcatraz

And mutha fuckas lost their minds

No escape from the mass mind rape

Play it again jack and then rewind the tape

And then play it again and again and again

Until ya mind is locked in

Believin' all the lies that they're tellin' ya

Buyin' all the products that they're sellin' ya

They say jump and ya say how high

Ya brain-dead

Ya gotta fuckin' bullet in ya head

Just victims of the in-house drive-by

They say jump, you say how high

Just victims of the in-house drive-by

They say jump, you say how high

Uggh! Yeah! Yea!

Ya standin' in line

Believin' the lies

Ya bowin' down to the flag

Ya gotta bullet in ya head

Ya standin' in line

Believin' the lies

Ya bowin' down to the flag

Ya gotta bullet in ya head

A bullet in ya head

A bullet in ya head

A bullet in ya head

A bullet in ya head

A bullet in ya head

A bullet in ya head

A bullet in ya head

A bullet in ya head

A bullet in ya head!

A bullet in ya head!

A bullet in ya head!

A bullet in ya head!

A bullet in ya head!

A bullet in ya head!

A bullet in ya head!

Ya gotta bullet in ya fuckin' head!

Yeah!

Check it…uggh!

Silence

Something about silence makes me sick

'Cause silence can be violent

Sorta like a slit wrist

If the vibe was suicide

Then you would push da button

But if ya bowin' down

Then let me do the cuttin'

Some speak the sounds

But speak in silent voices

Like radio is silent

Though it fills the air with noises

Its transmissions bring submission

As ya mold to the unreal

And mad boy grips the microphone

Wit' a fistful of steel

Yeah…and mad mad boy grips the microphone

Wit' a fistful of steel

Wit' a fistful of steel

('Cause I know the power of the question)

Wit' a fistful of steel

Wit' a fistful of steel

(And I won't stop cause I know the power of the question)

It's time to flow like the fluid in ya veins

If ya will it, I will spill it

And ya out just as quick as ya came

Not a silent one

But a defiant one

Never a normal one

'Cause I'm the bastard son

With the visions of the move

Vocals not to soothe

But to ignite and put in flight

My sense of militance

Groovin', playin' this game called survival

The status, the elite, the enemy, the rival

The silent sheep slippin', riffin', trippin'

Give ya a glimpse of the reality I'm grippin'

Steppin' into the jam and I'm slammin' like Shaquille

Mad boy grips the microphone

Wit' a fistful of steel

Yeah…and mad boy grips the microphone

Wit' a fistful of steel

Wit' a fistful of steel

('Cause I know the power of the question)

Wit' a fistful of steel

Wit' a fistful of steel

(And I won't stop 'cause I know the power of the question)

Ahh shit

And I won't stop 'cause I know the power of the question

And if the vibe was suicide

Then you would push da button

But if ya bowin' down

Then let me do the cuttin`

Yeah!

Come on!

A .44 full of bullets

Face full of pale

Eyes full of empty

A stare full of nails

The roulette ball, rolls along on the wheel

A mind full of fire

And a fistful of steel

And if the vibe was suicide

Then you would push da button

But if ya bowin' down

Then let me do the cuttin'

Yeah! Wit' a fistful of steel!

Come on!

Uggh!

Wit' a fistful of steel!

Uggh!

>>12446345

My, that's a big Q you've got there.