Nappy Heads

Lyrics

Why am I trapped in a cage?
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Barber can I get a fade?
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Teacher teacher check my grades
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 I grab the mic in a rage!
 You maintain to put a negro in pain, you used to diss me
 You sure you wanna hang with old Eddie Kane
 Ain't nuttin' wrong, so snap your head to the song
 Word is bond, you get wrong, I'll have you sing like Louis Armstrong
 And I say to myself, what a wonderful world
 But what the fuck was so wonderful 'bout pickin cotton, on a farm?
 The harder they come, the harder they fall, so come one come all
 Don't stall or I'ma stick you like a voodoo doll
 Doors locked stop draw for the count, who drops?
 Ten-nine-eight-seven-six-five-four-three-two-one
 You-slept-on-a-kid-from-the-boondocks
 Out of Hooterville land of the ill kill
 Bellsburg Viking so you know I'm top ranking Phil
 Some say newcomer like the yuma but save the rumor
 'Cause I've been rockin ever since '83
 When I used to rock my Pumas
 Rap, narcotic psychotic so hear the sentencin'
 One out of ten, I'm passin' the mic next time I'll get wicked
 Heard the man who went before, got intimidated
 You tried to gas me up, too much gas, you got intoxicated
 You wasn't ready for the real'n, dealin', chillin'
 Wyclef, no competition when I'm bringin' pure death
 I'm jumpin like a monkey to get mines off
 A-from a caterpillar, to the mic moth
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Teacher teacher check my grades
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 I coulda sworn I had an A
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 I grab the mic in a rage!
 You put, one and one together now you think you a rapper
 Baseball cap backward, forearms swingin' like a hip-hopper
 You do the rhyme, thinkin' no one can stop ya
 I be the followin' that chop ya down as I clock ya, hah
 When I say five-oh, I mean fifty not guns or cops
 Now here's the heavyweight knocker, the freedom fighter
 Natural rhythm rock a mic I always rhyme I'm never drinkin vodka
 Any old style, I throw it in a locker
 Well I'm a cool chief rocka, I never drank no vodka
 Me got no bag of cheeba 'cause I never had a knocker
 My cousin's name was Shaka, for short we called him 'Aka
 I flip it on wack MC's because to me they flow like caca
 You boogie move the groove, nothing to prove you lose
 Your style remind me of yesterday, old news
 Sad sung blues who's, chose the one to feel the pain
 Or bring the cane, tick-tock I come to pick your lock
 It's not a capital gain
 So watch out for the remain, or cry from bloodstain
 Bustin' nuts, bustin' style
 Gettin' buckwild some think I'm the descendant of a wilder child
 Comin' on the mic, from a higher level
 Broke is no joke choke the hell out of the devil
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 What about Martin?
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 What about Malcolm?
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Rosa Parks?
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 You hung a man after dark
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Cease the violence
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Yo who got the power, to make a man raise from the dead?
 Some said that it was Jesus, they said he was a notty dread
 But I don't mean to confuse a world that's confused
 Mind's atomic, so like a bomb, let me drop it
 Can't get too deep, 'cause some sleep while I wake
 In a dream that's made of wine but let me bring it back to grapes
 Teacher, explain the parable, it's simple
 It's easier for the camel to go through the eye of a needle
 Than for you to enter the kingdom, or battle
 And walk away, with the title when I get, brutal
 Feelings are mutual so sign your life, to Prudential
 Don't even flinch, the other becomin' spiritual
 There's six million ways to die but choose four
 'Cause I can still be in the desert buttnaked and be hardcore!
 When I say checks that means pump your fist
 Remember Moses people, this is Exodus
 Don't try to stop this, the force comes from Genesis
 Them who did us wrong, ask the Lord for forgiveness
 The land that I'm from ain't the land of the dumb
 We droppin' the bass drum, then we put your heads on a tombstone
 You can't kill the battle with a horn, blam blam, silly Joshua
 So march to St. Lawrence
 Yo march I got your back, march!
 Crown Heights
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Cease the violence
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 A moment of silence
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 For those who died
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Public Enemy
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Number one
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Frederick Douglass
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Harriet Tubman
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Aristide
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Bob Marley
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Prazwell
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 To my man Khalid
 (The nappy heads are comin' out)
 Now, speak of resistance, we're nappy heads
 Rhymes, kinks, braids and dreads
 The mother of creation, epitome of creativity, yeah
 And keep your heads nappy
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:29
Key
7
Tempo
204 BPM

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