Rebels Without Applause

Lyrics

I'm representin where the sun set
 Guerrilla Funk and we still ain't done yet
 T-K.A.S.H. and the "Bush Killa," one threat
 One sniper on the rooftop, one vet
 Now come get with this West coast revolutionary tag team
 Republican bad dream, blitzin the rap scene
 Pullin over five-oh, profilin white folks
 Rewirin Diebolds, why you lie under oath
 I'mma let the fo' pancake, drag and scrape
 Drive by the county jail with a hand grenade
 It's a planned escape, Tommy Kash take the wheel
 As I throw it at the gate for the Panther 8
 While you sucker butts trippin off job cuts, I just
 Keep a Glock tucked for the FBI
 Like a Walter Reed patient they'll let me die
 For my deadly vibe, but instead we ride
 Real revolution, actual solution
 You can clap if you want but it ain't 'bout that
 Hard Truth the movement, more than just music
 The respect of the ghetto is where it's at
 See we make the hood mobilize
 Rise up cause they 'posed to rise, ride on you cause they 'posed to ride
 For the Hard Truth Soldier side
 When you see this motorcade unload and drive
 Come slow from behind
 And let the automatic make a hole from behind
 The rich stay panicked, but the po' don't mind
 If piggies get blasted, just those hasslin brown and black kids
 We some West coast classics, left vote passing
 No wackness, no braggin, so active
 Freedom and equality we gon' have it
 Known assassins known for blastin Dog and K.A.S.H
 On and crackin', fo'-fo's and masks
 For po-po's harrassin po' folks with passion
 Hard truth soldiers, our troops home right now
 Or the nine millimeter might BLAOW~!
 The hood know my name, I'm good with the game
 If Cheney got shot then I would get the blame
 Even though I didn't do it, the feds can't stand to see
 A revolutionary with the ghetto influence
 By the way I talk turf, and still spit the real
 On the way they got work, for kids in the hills
 But they only got purp, and pills where it is
 Mo' liquor stores than church, the dead folks go on shirts
 I'm T-K.A.S.H., the pride of the underground
 Guerrilla Funk, never ride to another sound
 Make a politician run and hide when they come around
 Cause of how I instruct hounds to gun ya down
 The government make scratch mo'
 Than my homegirl who be spinnin for my potnah with the afro
 Black folks stack dough, scratch the smoke
 Subtract dope, add hope and vote, like that doe!

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
03:48
Key
9
Tempo
101 BPM

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