Not Yet Free Lyrics

Not Yet Free lyrics

sample -- "Blacks are too fuckin broke to be republicans", Ice Cube
(cut and
scratched by DJ Pam the Funkstress)
Verse One: Boots
In this land I can't
stand or sit
and not get shit thrown up in my face
A brotha never gets his
props
I'm doin bellyflops at the department of waste
And everyday I pulls
a front so nobody pulls my card
I got a mirror in my pocket and I practice
lookin hard
I'm lookin behind me beside me ahead of me
There'll be no
feet makin tracks here instead of me
But I can't disregard just what the
news says to me
I'm twenty-one, so I've reached my life expectancy
At any
minute I could be in some shit that kills my skinny ass
From motherfuckers
doin the sellout strut or probably Oakland task
My relationship with OPD has
been like one big diss
Long arm of the law, grips my dick so tight it's hard
to even piss
So I forgot ain't even got a pot to do it in
Up at the
church they're tellin me it's because I live in sin
So I grin, but
nevertheless my mind won't dwell
I must be trippin cause I thought I was
livin in hell
Capitalism is like a spider, the web is getting tighter
I'm
struggling like a fighter, just to bust loose
It's like a noose asyphyxiation
sets in
Just when I think I'm free it seems to me the spider steps in
This
web is made of money made of greed made of me
Of what I have become in a
parasite economy
Verse Two: E Roc
In the winter there's a splinter with
the smell of the rain
And the scent of the street, but all I smell is the
pain
Of a brotha who's a hustler and he's stuck to the grind
Of a sista
who's a hooker gotta sell her behind
Desperation makes her brotha get a
little more bold
The circumstance gets deeper when it's damp and it's
cold
So I spend my time thinking bout the ultimate gank
Can I get my Coup
together pull a move on the bank?
I be the picture perfect hustler for the
piece of the pie
But my daddy always taught me just to reach for the
sky
Now my dream and aspirations go from single to hoe
As I realize
there's a million motherfuckers in the cold
No need to be told, cause when
you got a million po' people
Gettin ganked, by a few that are rich and
evil
But it's illegal, to wonder how they livin fat
(One two three)
everybody get a gat
Verse Three: Boots
Ahhhhhh yeah!
Niggaz, thugs,
dope dealers and pimps
Basketball players, rap stars, and simps
That's
what little black boys... are made of
Sluts, hoes, and press the naps around
your beck
Broads pop that coochie, bitches stay in check
That's what
little black girls... are made of
But if we're made of that who made
us
and what can we do to change us
The oppressor tries to tame
us
here's a FOOT for his anus!
Well since the days when I was shittin in
diapers
It was evident the President didn't like us
Assassination
attempts I'd root for the snipers
My teacher told me that I didn't know what
right was
Well she was wrong cause I knew what a right was
And a left and
an uppercut, too
I had a hunch a sucker punch is what my people
got
That's why I was constantly red, black, and blue
Outro: E Roc,
Boots
[E] Boots, Boots, Boots, you wanna throw some shots out?
[B] Ay man
I ain't done with my lyrics yet, that's not cool
[E] Ay, but ain't this a
freestyle?
[B] Naw, this is not yet freestyle cause we not yet free
[E]
Hey we gonna throw some shots out anyway
*guns are cocked*
[B] Awright
fuckit, who y'all wanna throw some shots out to?
[E] Uhh whassup with that
uhh Bill Clinton and Al Gore?
[B] Aight, they the new masters up in the
White House and everything
Let's throw some shots out
[E] Yeah
*blam,
blam blam*
[B] Awright, what about Bush? He on the way out and
everything
but I think we need a goodbye for his ass
*gun cocked*
[E]
Uh-huh
*blam*
[E] See-ya!
[B] Awright, what about Ross Perot and the
good ol boys?
*guns cocked*
[E] The who?
[B] You know who they are,
awright
*blam blam, blam*
[B] Ay what about Pete Wilson? (Whassup) That
Pete Wilson motherfucker
[E] Yeah whassup wit him?
[B]
Awright
*blam*
[E] Got him!
[B] Awright, ay, the L.A.P.D., *guns
cocking repeatedly throughout*
The O.P.D., The Richmond P.D., Detroit P.D.,
ay
[E] Ay fuck it, fuck it, the whole, the whole motherfuckin P.D.
[B]
Awright, load up
[E] Yeah, here's a loaded club for yo'
ass
*semi-automatic*
[B] Awright, cool -- ay, what about these
skinheads?
Ay check it out
[E] I can't stand dem fools
[B] Awright
awright, load it up, load it up, awright, cool
*semi-automatic*
[E] Yeah,
got em!
[B] Ay, what about these sellout motherfuckers!
[E] Who? *gun
cocks*
[B] You know these sellout motherfuckers -- Ellay DuHarris
[E] Who
else? *gun cocks*
[B] Tom Bradley
[E] Who else? *gun cocks*
[B] David
Dinkins, ay, line em up
[E] Yeah be true to the game
*blam blam blam
blam*
[B] Ay, we outta ammo, what we gon do?
[E] Let's get the fuck up
outta here
[B] Aight cool, we out