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Transmission
third world war third round A decade of the weapon of sound above ground no shelter if you're looking for shade I lick shots at the brutal charade As tha polls close like a casket On truth devoured A silent play on the shadow of power A spectacle monopolized The camera's eye on choice disguised Was it cast for the mass who burn and toil Or for the vultures who thirst for blood and oil A spectacle monopolized They hold the reins and stole your eyes The fistagons bullets and bombs Who stuff the banks Who staff the party ranks More for Gore or the son of a drug lord None of the above fuck it cut the cord Lights out guerrilla radio Turn that shit up Lights out guerrilla radio Turn that shit up Lights out guerrilla radio Turn that shit up Lights out guerrilla radio Contact I highjacked the frequencies Blockin the beltway Move on DC |
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Men walkin’ ’long the railroad tracks
Goin’ someplace there’s no goin’ back Highway patrol choppers comin’ up over the ridge Hot soup on a campfire under the bridge Shelter line stretchin’ ’round the corner Welcome to the new world order Families sleepin’ in their cars in the Southwest No home no job no peace no rest The highway is alive tonight But nobody’s kiddin’ nobody about where it goes I’m sittin’ down here in the campfire light Searchin’ for the ghost of Tom Joad He pulls a prayer book out of his sleeping bag Preacher lights up a butt and takes a drag Waitin’ for when the last shall be first and the first shall be last In a cardboard box ’neath the underpass Got a one-way ticket to the promised land You got a hole in your belly and gun in your hand Sleeping on a pillow of solid rock Bathin’ in the city aqueduct The highway is alive tonight Where it’s headed everybody knows I’m sittin’ down here in the campfire light Waitin’ on the ghost of Tom Joad Now Tom said "Mom, wherever there’s a cop beatin’ a guy Wherever a hungry newborn baby cries Where there’s a fight ’gainst the blood and hatred in the air Look for me Mom I’ll be there Wherever there’s somebody fightin’ for a place to stand Or decent job or a helpin’ hand Wherever somebody’s strugglin’ to be free Look in their eyes Mom you’ll see me." Well the highway is alive tonight But nobody’s kiddin’ nobody about where it goes I’m sittin’ down here in the campfire light With the ghost of old Tom Joad |
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The main attraction - distraction got ya number than nnumber than numb
Empty ya pockets son; they got you thinkin that What ya need is what they sellin Make you think that buyin is rebellin From the theaters to malls on every shore Tha thin line between entertainment and war The frontline is everywhere, there be no shelter here Speilberg the nightmare works so push it far Amistad was a whip, the truth was feathered and tarred Memory erased, burned and scarred Trade in ya history for a VCR Cinema, simulated life, ill drama Fourth Reich culture - Americana Chained to the dream they got ya searchin for Tha thin line between entertainment and war There be no shelter here Tha frontline is everywhere There be no shelter here Tha frontline is everywhere Hospitals not profit full Yet market bulls got pockets full To advertise some hip disguise View tha world from American eyes Tha poor adore keep fiendin for more Tha thin line between entertainment and war They fix the need, develop the taste Buy their products or get laid to waste Coca-Cola is back in the veins of Saigon And Rambo too, he got a dope pair of Nikes on And Godzilla pure muthafuckin filler To keep ya eyes off the real killer Cinema, simulated life, ill drama Fourth Reich culture - Americana Chained to the dream they got ya searchin for Tha thin line between entertainment and war There be no shelter here Tha frontline is everywhere There be no shelter here Tha frontline is everywhere American eyes, American eyes View the world from American eyes Bury the past, rob us blind And leave nothin behind |
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Solo I'm a soloist on a solo list
Al live never on a floppy disk Inka inka bottle of ink Paintings of rebellion Drawn up by the thoughts I think Come on It's set up like a deck of cards They're sending us to early graves For all the diamonds They'll use a pair of clubs to beat the spades With poetry I paint the pictures that hit More like the murals that fit Don't turn away Get in front of it Brotha did ya forget ya name Did ya lose it on the wall Playin' tic tac toe Yo check the diagonal Three brothers gone Come on Doesn't that make it three in a row Anger is a gift Brotha did ya forget ya name Did ya lose it on the wall Playin' tic tac toe Yo check the diagonal Three million gone Come on Cause they're counting backwards to zero Environment The environment exceeding on the level Of our unconciousness For example What does the billboard say Come and play come and play Forget about the movement Anger is a gift Yeah Ugh Bring that shit |
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