Heathens

Still rock
the nuke proof
I keep on rocking
in the free world
Doot-doola-doot-doot
It's Feeding Time at the Zoo 2
Q Tip The Last Zulu
I brought the Tribe through
Speak the truth
Like my hands on the Bible
Doing this
‘Til the earth turns into a fireball
Clever words
to incite a riot
But the crowd never heard
Because the mic too quiet
They'll probably turn it up For the headliner
I spread the butter
Drink a toast To the bread-liner
The umpire
I watch the game from a distance
The first one you wanna blame
For all the wrong decisions
Became acquainted
With the concept of optimism
But soon forgot the wisdom
Because I didn't have a pot to piss in
Or a window to throw it out of
A dead end street
If your thinking you know about us
Until ends meet
The possibilities are boundless
Opportunities are rare
And the dice rolls without us

These slumlords
Must have thought
We were born yesterday
These young boys
Must have thought
We’ve got nothing left to say
And all these non-believers
Who said Jesus couldn't levitate
And all these other heathens

Tailor made rhyme style
Wake and bake lifestyle
Hood chick lookin' like
Lady Pink in Wild Style
Avocado got the Charlie Brown profile
Smoke the Bob Marley
‘Til I start to sound docile
And forget where my keys at
Quick with the trees strapped
Quit then I relapse
Like…
Awwww shit!
Where the weed at?!
Next episode
He's back with the recap
Like our Graham With the quick reminder
Lit the fire
Got busy on the synthesiser
They always said He was the sickest rhymer
‘Til he shaved his head
Like a Third Reich sympathiser
But he think like Malcolm X
Got the finished mixes
But he didn't drop the album yet
The outcome of the numbers Wasn't adding up
Feeling like he had enough
Wanna duck to Magaluf
Lit a spliff Bigger than a Woolly Mammoth tusk
I wonder why it seem like
Everybody mad at us?
He might lose his mind
And let the ‘matic bust
Take it easy
Ken Kesey on the magic bus
With a bag of dust
To take the pain away
The dragon huff and he puff
And spit the flame again
I wrote this
On the front porch
On a rainy day
These slumlords
Must have thought
We were born yesterday
These young boys
Must have thought
We’ve got nothing left to say
And all these non-believers
Who said Jesus couldn't levitate
And all these other heathens

These slumlords
Must have thought
We were born yesterday
These young boys
Must have thought
We’ve got nothing left to say
And all these non-believers
Who said Jesus couldn't levitate
And all these other heathens