Letras
Easy lovers listen with your hearts on hold
Give me a minute while I paint my shit gold
To sell the sacred to the hated ten fold
And donate the proceeds, oops, forgot I left you on hold
As we proceed to give you more things to need
Instead of food and education, try Nikes and greed
A Che Guevara T-shirt from a Latin sweatshop
Bob Marley chucks from a Dread that got shot
The revolution will be televised only on Pay-Per-View
Let the children breed monsters and I don't mean Picachu
I mean YOU watching people like YOU get murdered
Bullets 'raze' ghettoes like Single Black Mothers
Bombs get dropped like Funk Flex on brothers
And you are the cause, of course, did I stutter?
You don't believe me I need more people
Revolutionaries in the real, axes of evil
Writers to speak for the dispossessed people
Listeners and readers to see that's it simple
Unless you don't believe we are all created equal
Do it right now for there will be no sequel
Easy lovers listen with your heart on hold
Give me a minute while I paint my shit gold
To sell the sacred to the hated ten fold
And donate the proceeds
Hey, Young World I see you growing wild
Word from an O-G "be a father to your child"
'Cause you cant leave the raising of the youth to television
That only tells him how to get trapped in the system
Advertisement tell him that he won't be happy
If he doesn't have the newest-latest updated malarky
Everybody aiming for 15 minutes of fame
Call it 'Reality-TV' only thing 'real' is the 'name'
Your child grows up imitating the vain, thinking that's real
Then he sees suffering and pain, and don't think that's real
'Cause there's no emotional music in the background of the news
While the weapons contractors that own the channels share their views
Abused till he lives to consume
Greed looms heavy, Elephant in the Room
Desensitized from the womb to the tomb
But you say "Rae cut out the doom and gloom"