| The Power of Equality I've got a soul That cannot sleep at night when something just ain't right blood red but without sight exploding eggs in the night mix like sticks of dynamite red black or white this is my fight come on courage let's be heard turn feelings into words american equality has always been sour an attitude I would like to devour my name is peace this is my hour can I get just a little bit of power Chorus: the power of equality is not yet what it ought to be it fills me up like a hollow tree the power of equality Right or wrong my song is strong you don't like it get along say what I want do what I can death to the message of the ku klux klan I don't buy supremacy media chief you menace me the people you say cause all the crime wake up motherfucker and smell the slime blackest anger whitest fear can you hear me am I clear my name is peace this is my hour can I get just a little bit of power <Chorus> I've got tapes I've got CDs I've got my public enemy my lilly white ass is tickled pink when I listen to music that makes me think |
| not another motherfuckin' politician doin' nothin' but something for his own ambition never touch the sound we make soul sacred love vows that we take to create straight what is true you he' with me and what I do my name is peace this is my hour can I get just a little bit of power <Chorus> Madder than a motherfucker lick my finger can't forget 'cause the memory lingers count 'em off quick little piccadilly sickness take me to the hick eat my thickness I've got a welt from the bible belt dealing with the hand that I've been dealt sitting in the grip of a killing fist giving up blood just to exist rub me wrong and I get pissed no I can not get to this people in pain I do not dig it change of brain for Mr. Bigot little brother do you hear me have a heart oh come get near me misery is not my friend but I'll break before I bend what I see is insanity whatever happened to humanity |
| If You Have To Ask A wanna be gangster thinkin' he's a wise guy rob another bank he's a sock 'em in the eye guy tankhead Mr. Bonnie and Clyde guy look him in the eye he's not my kinda guy never be confusion proof pudding's sweet but too aloof orange eye girl with a backslide dew said yo homie who you talkin' to a backed up paddy wagon mackin' on a cat's ass one upper cut to the cold upper middle class born to storm on boredom's face |
| one upper cut to the cold upper middle class born to storm on boredom's face add a little lust to the funky ass flea bass most in the race just lose their grace the blackest hole in all of space crooked as a hooker now suck my thumb anybody wanna come get some Chorus If you have to ask you'll never know funky mother fuckers will not be told to go Don't ask me why I'm flyin' so high Mr. Bubble meets Superfly |
| In my third eye searchin' for a soul bride she's my freakette soak it up inside deeper than a secret much more than meets the eye to the funk I fall into my new ride my hand my hand magic on the one is a medicine man thinkin' of a few taboos that I ought to kill dancin' on their face like a stage on vaudeville I feel so good can't be understood booty of a hoodlum rockin' my red hood <Chorus> |
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