Calm Like a Bomb - Live, Mexico City, Mexico, October 28, 1999

Feel the funk blast
 Feel the funk blast
 Feel the funk blast
 Feel the funk blast
 Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
 I be walkin' god like a dog
 My narrative fearless
 My word war returns to burn
 Like Baldwin home from Paris
 Like Steel from a furnace
 I was born landless
 This is tha native son
 Born of Zapata's guns
 Stroll through tha shanties
 And tha cities remains
 Same bodies buried hungry
 But with different last names
 These vultures rob everything
 Leave nothing but chains
 Pick a point on tha globe
 Yes tha pictures tha same
 There's a bank There's a church a myth and a hearse
 A mall and a loan a child dead at birth
 There's a widow pig parrot
 A rebel to tame
 A whitehooded judge
 A syringe and a vein
 And tha riot be tha rhyme of tha unheard
 ♪
 What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what?
 ♪
 What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what?
 I'm calm like a bomb
 ♪
 I'm calm like a bomb
 ♪
 This ain't subliminal
 Feel tha critical mass approach horizon
 Tha pulse of tha condemned
 Sound off America's demise
 Tha anti-myth rhythm rock shocker
 Yes I spit fire
 Hope lies in tha smoldering rubble of empires
 Yes back through tha shanties and tha cities remains
 Tha same bodies buried hungry
 But with different last names
 These vultures rob everyone
 Leave nothing but chains
 Pick a point here at home
 Yes tha picture's tha same
 There's a field full of slaves
 Some corn and some debt
 There's a ditch full of bodies
 Tha check for tha rent
 There's a tap, tha phone, tha silence of stone
 The numb black screen
 That be feelin' like home
 And tha riot be tha rhyme of tha unheard
 What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what?
 What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what?
 What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what?
 ♪
 I'm calm like a bomb
 Calm like a bomb
 I'm calm like a bomb
 I'm calm like a bomb
 I'm calm like a bomb
 I'm calm like a bomb
 I'm calm like a bomb
 There's a mass without roofs
 A prison to fill
 A country's soul that reads post no bills
 A strike and a line of cops outside of tha mill
 A right to obey
 And a right to kill
 A mass without roofs
 A prison to fill
 A country's soul that reads post no bills
 A strike and a line of cops outside of tha mill
 A right to obey
 And a right to kill