The main attraction, distraction Got ya number than number than numb Empty ya pockets son, they got you thinkin' that What ya need is what they selling
No matter how hard you try, you can't stop us now No matter how hard you try, you can't stop us now We're the renegades of this atomic age This atomic
Transmission third world war third round Decade of the weapon of sound above ground No shelter if you're looking for shade I lick shots at the brutal
Come with it now! Come with it now! The microphone explodes, shattering the molds Either drop hits like De-La-O or get the fuck off the commode With
Yeah ya tryin' ta tire me, tire me I can see you in front of me, front of me Ya tryin' ta tire me, tire me Why don't you get from in front of me She's
The movie ran through me, the glamor subdue me The tabloid untie me, I'm empty, please fill me Mister anchor assure me that Baghdad is burning Your voice
Oh, the world is my expense It's the cost of my desire Jesus blessed me with it's future And I protect it with fire So raise your fists and march around
Ughh! hey you, it's just another bombtrack ughh Hey you, it's just another bombtrack yeah It goes a-one, two three and It's just another bombtrack And
My fears hunt me down Capturing my memories The frontier of loss They try to escape across the street where Jesus stripped bare And raped the spirit he
Killing in the name of Some of those that work forces Are the same that burn crosses Some of those that work forces Are the same that burn crosses Some
volture came ta try and steal ya name but Now you found a gun This is for the people of the sun It's comin' back around again This is for tha people
Come Bring it on, bring it on now Solo, I'm a soloist on a solo list All live, never on a floppy disk Inka, inka, bottle of ink Paintings of rebellion
, we'll break in Something must be done About vengeance, a badge and a gun 'Cause I'll rip the mike, rip the stage, rip the system I was born to rage against
Southern fist Rise through the jungle mist Clenched to smash power so cancerous Black flag and a red star A rising sun loomin' over Los Angeles 'Cuz of
Coolin' on the scene like a horse in a stable A brother got ill, tried to snatch a fat cable I stepped back like it wasn't no thing I Punched him in the
The sistas are in so check the front line It seems I spent the '80s in a Haiti state of mind Cast me into classes for electro shock Straight incarcerated
Huh! Check it! Uh! Silence, something about silence makes me sick 'Cause silence can be violent sorta like a slit wrist If the vibe was suicide, then
A jail cell is freedom From the pain in my home Hatred passed on, passed on And passed on A world of violent rage But it's one that I can recognize Having
