Got Blood, Got Sweat…
Leakin' out of the Pen Hip-Hop is in a hospital room and out of breath,
Now the youth has got a pillow in hand and we truly powerless,
Who these stupid lousy wrecks?
These foolish clowns, these net nerds and losers can't use the alphabet!
D'you know how the music found it steps?
About the movement, ‘bout the sweat? the James Brown loops booming out the decks?
‘bout the Boogie down BX?
Fools are now obsessed with jewels around they necks, and put they music out for sex,
It's full of movie sound effects… It's all an attraction.
Swallowing data, they follow the fashion.
They all want a reaction…
But what goes on today, tomorrow, will be already has been.
There's a dominant fraction,
a small amount causing embargos, blocking off the knowledge you lacking.
Fuck these lethal, powerful men,
the elite of cowards that tend to keep you down while you sleeping, following trend.
Rip these leeches out of your skin…
They preach about misleading the people, while they teach you how to pretend.
I'm leaking litres out my pen,
my speech is leaping out of it's den, to lead a crowd of at least a thousand and ten now… I won't frown!
I teach the youth to raise a fist and put they I-phone down.
And if you mock me then fuck you!
Famine was invented by the rich visionnaries you look up to.
It's all just dishonest:
The media swear it's raining as the government piss on us.
All I can do is write about it,
but one day you'll say I was right about it, we'll get together and we'll fight about it!
Got Blood, Got Sweat…
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