Knowledge, where the people at?

Free Mumia!

Channel Live! (KRS-One, come and represent)

(The wisdom)

Hah hah hah hah hah hahaha!

Free Mumia!



Everywhere I look there's another house negro

Talkin about they people and how they should be equal

They talkin but the conversation ain't goin nowhere

You can't diss hip-hop, so don't you even go there

C. Delores Tucker, you wanna quote the scripture

Everytime you hear nigga, listen up sista



Verse One: Hakim, KRS, Tuffy



I met up with this girl named Delores, a prankster

I said I MC, she said, "You're a gangster"

But she was caught up, she hit the floor like a breakdance

Wrapped her up like the arms in a b-boy stance

Recognize moms I'm one of your sons I'm hip-hop

in the form of Channel Live and KRS-One

Representin MC's across America

She said, "You're the one who be causin all that mass hysteria"



Wisdom shall come out of the mouths of babes and sucklings

But you blinded by cultural ignorance and steady judging

But judge not, lest ye may be judged

For the judgment ye judge ye shall surely be judged, you gets no love



She said, "I like it, that's why I jock it"

Then I said, "You only on my back because I fill brother's pockets"

Got em drivin Benzes Jeeps and Rolls Royces

Attackin me will leave youth with no voices

The choice is yours not mine hang with me

I'll have you freestyle and bombin graffiti

We can cut it up like like wax

Claimin I cause violence but America was violent before rap, FACT



Chorus: KRS-One



Warner, Elektra, Atlantic equal WEA

Instead of fighting them why don't you go free Mumia

(repeat 2X)



Verse Two: Tuffy, KRS, Hakim



Wild recital, I kicks the vital, like the final

call as I watch, Babylon fall

I had to Rush Limbaugh, get that pig with an axe

Tuffy dips to the side, buckin cannons that's phat

Because he censors the uses of the metaphor

You can get the dick bum up

Because it's you that brings the, real horrorcore

Expenditures forgettin, gut from the poor



Why sure! Back before we were born they sold us out

Yeah J. Jackson we know what you about

Youse a Slave Mason, not a Free Mason

Before long the Goddess Tiamat through hip-hop you'll be facin

Don't start me, cause I be the, lyricist

At the nineteen ninety-nine millenium party held at Giza

Sayin he's a, fraud, oh my God

Cause never in your life should you disrespect an artist

Instead, focus your attention on astronomy

And the up and coming, shift in the economy

If you can't do that, then heed the final call

To free Mumia, Abu-Jamal



Hate to be so rough, it could be the White Owls

House niggaz are full of crap, like my Colin Powell

Kickin vowels, is how we relieve the tension

Until we start to bounce white people like suspension (revolution)

You paint the pictures, the black man on the corner

But tell me, who blew up Oklahoma?

The City, ain't no pity, for the beast

It's Hakim that voice from the East



Chorus



Verse Three: KRS, Hakim, Tuffy



Buck buck! Buck buck buck!

It sound like gunshots but it could be the plot

of a chicken, definition, is what you're missin and

listen to your children instead of dissin em

Senator Dole doesn't understand the young people

Like they be sayin want to, but we be sayin wanna

They gettin dumber every summer as they walk the rope

Maybe because they cannot understand the quotes



Word, in actuality, this Norman Bates mentality

always seems to represent, minus three-sixty percent

For degrees full circle, dead from the purple

rays of the sun I gots melanin so check it

Bag your nuts quick or get sick from being naked

Suspect it, was it a means for the end

For just a few to drive the Benz while you eat the pigskins

Turned you into mannequins, cause the trick of technology

A revelation, revalations

Sensation gives me inspiration of revolution

That's my solution, there will be no sequels

I'm audi hundred forty four thousand with my people



From Caligula to Hitler, now it's Schwartzeneggar

A lust for the violence is the science of their behavior

Who enslaved ya (the devil) but the God of virtuosity

And of the world created, could it be mental sodomy

Got my mind twisted like the blades of fonta leaf

I sit in disbelief as he crawls underneath

The rock cock back the glock, cause I don't trust

The devil I rebel until Babylon is dust



Chorus



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