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                        Underground eXperts United

                                Presents...

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        [Public Enemy - Apocalypse 91 Lyrics] [     By THE CHIEF    ]


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  A P O C A L Y P S E  91 ... T H E  E N E M Y  S T R I K E S  B L A C K

                           TYPED IN BY THE CHIEF


              SIDE 1                 SIDE 2
              ---------------------  --------------------------------
              Lost At Birth          I Don't Wanna Be Called Yo Niga
              Rebirth                How To Kill A Radio Consultant
              Nighttrain             By The Time I Get To Arizona
              Can't Truss It

              SIDE 3                 SIDE 4
              ---------------------  --------------------------------
              Move!                  Shut Em Down
              1 Million Bottlebags   A Letter To The New York Post
              More News At 11        Get The F--- Outta Dodge
                                     Bring Tha Noize (w/Anthrax)


______________________________________________________________________________

LOST AT BIRTH -Ridenhour-Robertz-Gary G-Wiz-Depper-
______________________________________________________________________________

               Clear the way for the prophets of rage
               Engagin' on the stage, on a track
               Tell Jack stay in the back
               I was born
               Every level I'm on
               You're warned
               Just in case you forgot
               I pump in kilowatts
               To let 'em know which direction
               To go what's up I wanna know
               I test the front row
               Forgiven the givin' while the livin' is livin' it up
               So many people is sleepin' while standin' up
               Not dressed to impress or fess it
               That's it text to the brain like FedEx
               Treated one and the same
               'Cause the name of the game
               Don't give 'em checks above necks
               Some don't realize the same side
               Siddity in the city
               Suburbs or projects
               But we're livin' in a different time
               Some speed, some lead
               While some jus' pump rhymes
               Then again all in da same gang
               Info to flow
               And heal all below
               Let's go and find
               The piece of mind that's taken
               Or else the black
               or start breakin'
               Public Enemy no!
______________________________________________________________________________

REBIRTH -Ridenhour-Robertz-Gary G-Wiz-Depper-
______________________________________________________________________________

               When I get down
               I give what go around
               And when I cough
               I do my best to cut it off
               I don't claim to be a preacher
               Not paid to be a teacher
               But I'm grown
               I try to be a leader to the bone
               Never could follow a man
               Wit' a bottle
               He's a baby wit' a beard
               Not a feared role model
               And they ask me where I got it
               I get it from my pops
               Wit' a man in the house
               All the bullshit stops
               Then I sing a song
               About what the hell is goin' wrong
               You never know
               If you only trust the TV and the radio
               These days
               You can't see who's in cahoots
               'Cause now the KKK
               Wears three-piece suits
               It's like that y'all, it's like that y'all
               In fact you know it's like that y'all
______________________________________________________________________________

NIGHTTRAIN -Ridenhour-Robertz-Gary G-Wiz-The JBL-Depper-
______________________________________________________________________________

               Land of the free
               But the skin I'm in identifies me
               So the people around me
               Energize me
               Callin' all aboard this train ride
               Talkin' 'bout raw hardcore
               Leavin' frauds on the outside
               But the bad thing is anyone can ride the train
               And the reason
               For that is 'cause we look the same
               Lookin' all around at my so called friend
               Light skin to the brown
               The black
               Here we go again
               Homey over there knows Keith an
               But he be thiefin'
               I don't trust him
               Rather bust 'em
               Up out goes his hand and I cough
               He once stole from me
               Yeah I wanna cut it off
               The black thing is a ride I call the nighttrain
               It rides the good and the bad
               We call the monkey trained
               Trained to attack the black it's true
               'Cause some of them look just like you
               Stayin' on the scene
               Sittin' on the train
               See all the faces
               Look about the same
               There go the sellout who's takin' a ride like Cargo
               'Cause he deal
               The keys from Key Largo
               Runnin' Nat narcotic
               By George he got it
               Takin' makin' the G erotic
               And the fiends they scheme
               So he can put 'em down
               But his method is wreck 'em
               Put 'em in tha ground
               Got tha nerve as hell
               To yell brother man
               He ain't black man
               Known to murder his own
               Traitor on the phone
               Ridin' the train
               Self-hater trained
               To sell pain
               The master's toy
               Little boy
               Hard to avoid he look wit' it but he null 'n' void
               'Cause he ridin' the train you think he down for the cause
               'Cause his face looks just like yours
               More of the same insane who sayin'
               Like flowin' like nighttrain
               Runnin' the pain of the black reign
               You look, you laugh
               You doubt and go out
               And I'm gone
               But the bass goes on
               To talk the talk, but walk the walk
               The king of New York
               Crack a lack attack the black
               To crack the back
               Once again I test a friend wit' sincerity
               Or consider him an enemy
               Who am I to tell a lie
               Rather push da bush
               Hope da cracker get crushed
               I'm rollin' wit' rush
               Leader of the bum rush
               Russian I ain't
               Spreadin' like paint
               Lookin' at the put I got
               And its kickin'
               But it ain't chicken
               But it's livin' for a city
               So sick 'n' tired
               Of a scene buckwild, piled in a file
               Senile or chile
               They said it never been no worser
               Than this, I'm on the nighttrain
               They hope ya don't miss it
               Give ya what dey gotta give you just go
               You musn't just put your
               Trust in every brother yo
               Some don't give a damn
               'Cause they the other man
               Worse than a bomb
               Posin' as Uncle Toms
               Disgracin' the race
               Blowin' up
               The whole crew
               Wit' some of them lookin'
               Just like you
______________________________________________________________________________

CAN'T TRUSS IT  -Ridenhour-Robertz-Gary G-Wiz-Depper-
______________________________________________________________________________

               Bass in your face
               Not an eight track
               Gettin' it good to the wood
               So the people
               Give you some a dat
               Reactin' to the fax
               That I kick and it stick
               And it stay around
               Pointin' to the joint, put the Buddha down
               Goin', goin', gettin' to the roots
               Ain't givin' it up
               So turn me loose
               But then again I got a story
               That's harder than the hardcore
               Cost of the holocaust
               I'm talin' 'bout the one still goin' on
               I know
               Where I'm from, not dum diddie dum
               From the base motherland
               The place of the drum
               Invaded by the wack diddie wack
               Fooled the black, left us faded
               King and chief probably had a big beef
               Because of dat now I grit my teeth
               So here's a song to the strong
               'Bout a shake of a snake
               And the smile went along wit dat
               Can't truss it
               Kickin' wicked rhymes
               Like a fortune teller
               'Cause the wickedness done by Jack
               Where everybody at
               Divided and sold
               For liquor and the gold
               Smacked in the back
               For the other man to mack
               Now the story that I'm kickin' is gory
               Little Rock where they be
               Dockin' this boat
               No hope I'm shackled
               Plus gang tackled
               By the other hand swingin' the rope
               Wearin' red, white and blue Jack and his crew
               The guy's authorized beat down for the brown
               Man to the man, each one so it teach one
               Born to terrorize sisters and every brother
               One love who said it
               I know Whodini sang it
               But the hater taught hate
               That's why we gang bang it
               Beware of the hand
               When it's comin' from the left
               I ain't trippin' just watch ya step
               Can't truss it
               An I judge everyone, one by the one
               Look here come the judge
               Watch it here he come now
               I can only guess what's happ'nin'
               Years ago he woulda been
               The ships captain
               Gettin' me bruised on a cruise
               What I got to lose, lost all contact
               Got me layin' on my back
               Rollin' in my own leftover
               When I roll over, I roll over in somebody else's
               90 F--kin' days on a slave ship
               Count 'em fallin' off 2, 3, 4 hun'ed at a time
               Blood in the wood and it's mine
               I'm chokin' on spit feelin' pain
               Like my brain bein' chained
               Still gotta give it what I got
               But it's hot in the day, cold in the night
               But I thrive to survive, I pray to god to stay alive
               Attitude boils up inside
               And that ain't it (think I'll every quit)
               Still I pray to get my hands 'round
               The neck of the man wit' the whip
               3 months pass, they brand a label on my ass
               To signify
               Owned
               I'm on the microphone
               Sayin' 1555
               How I'm livin'
               We been livin' here
               Livin' ain't the word
               I been givin'
               Haven't got
               Classify us in the have-nots
               Fightin' haves
               'Cause it's all about money
               When it comes to Armageddon
               Mean I'm getting mine
               Here I am turn it over Sam
               427 to the year
               Do you understand
               That's why it's hard
               For the black to love the land
               Once again
               Bass in your face
               Not an eight track
               Gettin' it good to the wood
               So the people
               Give you some a dat
               Reactin' to the fax
               That I kick and it stick
               And it stay around
               Pointin' to the joint, put the Buddha down
               Goin', goin', gettin' to the roots
               Ain't givin' it up
               So turn me loose
               But then again I got a story
               That's harder than the hardcore
               Cost of the holocaust
               I'm talin' 'bout the one still goin' on
               I know
               Where I'm from, not dum diddie dum
               From the base motherland
               The place of the drum
               Invaded by the wack diddie wack
               Fooled the black, left us faded
               King and chief probably had a big beef
               Because of dat now I grit my teeth
               So here's a song to the strong
               'Bout a shake of a snake
               And the smile went along wit dat
               Can't truss it
______________________________________________________________________________

I DON'T WANNA BE CALLED YO NIGA  -Drayton-Gary G-Wiz-Robertz-
______________________________________________________________________________

               Yo! ho!   yo niga! yo niga! no niga!
               Check it out
               How can you say to me yo my niga
               Cursin' up a storm with your finger on a trigger
               Feelin' all the girls like a big gold digger
               Take a small problem
               Make a small problem bigger
               Yo I ain't poor I got dough
               Don't consider me your brother no more
               Goddamn kilogram, how do you figure
               I don't want to be called yo niga
               Yo niga
               Hey
               Yo niga
               I try to make my statements
               Stick like flypaper
               Judge says to me yo niga sign these goddamn papers
               My boss told me yo niga you're fired
               Yo niga this, yo niga that
               I know you're a niga now 'cause your head got fat
               Flava framalama boy you won't figure
               I don't wanna be called yo niga
               Yo niga
               Break it down
               N.I.G.G.E.R.
               Niga
               Everybody sayin' it
               Everybody playin' it rolling on the scales
               'Cause everybody's weighin' it
               Toby say yo I be good niga
               Let me get a shovel make a good digger
               I don't care how small or bigger
               I don't want to be called yo niga
               Yo niga...
______________________________________________________________________________

HOW TO KILL A RADIO CONSULTANT  -Ridenhour-Robertz-Gary G-Wiz-Depper-
______________________________________________________________________________

               Pusher of the button
               Talkin' loud ain't sayin' nuttin'
               The mack of the format gettin' fat
               Ain't funny 'cause my neighborhood
               Is flowin' money
               Thank God 4 the boulevard
               They keep the motor runnin'
               The rap shows coincide wit' the tape flow
               Bootleggers go inside and record the record low
               They get me, get this now can you freestyle
               Freestyle no styles free except da radio
               But the radio controlled by the sucker move
               Who moved away got away after plannin' a getaway
               An now he wanna play what he wanna play
               An got say on what is bumpin' of course he's gettin' somethin'
               Never know what's good to tha neighborhood
               Swear I never seen da sucker
               In my necka da woods
               The ass is connected to the brain stem
               So I sing a simple song
               So you can see the sucker in 'em
               People got to make a call
               To hear the yes y'all (yes y'all)
               While the phone keep ringin'
               You hear some singer singin'
               Why don't dey play the jammy in the daytime
               People think it's slammin' plus the rhyme
               Is hot an got me tunin'
               The afternoon is FM in the PM
               Oh if that they could see 'im
               Out-of-towner not down I think they'll dis him
               Up goes the season, pop goes the weasel
               Damn gimme rap no band I want some x-clan
               I know dey even got it from the giddy
               Stacked in the back
               Only black radio station in the city
               Programmed by a sucker in a suit
               Slick back hair he don't even live here
               Raps the number one pick so I draft it
               I don't care about all the other demographics
               When the quiet storm come on I fall sleep
               What dey need is Arbitron on the funky jeep
               Too bad it's goin' on in fact my word is bond
               To pull a disappearin' act attack until he gone
               The whacker jam he play they pay I'm in da day
               I don't think we gonna miss 'im we don't need 'im anyway
               Can I kick it
               Who the hell is on the radio
               Or who's behind
               Do you really think they'll mind
               To play the funky jams
               That everybody wit'
               Some Def Jef or Ice T
               Show they rollin' wit' the syndicate
               Or can dey get funky
               Wit' the underground
               Master ace get a taste
               Bomb squad gettin' hard
               Marley mart makin' hipper
               Trax for Jack The Ripper
               Pumpin' Eric B or Papa San
               Still rollin' wit' run
               Did you think that ever
               In fact you thought that never
               Control of your soul
               Is by a suit and tie
               Then U wonder why why U never hear a rhyme
               I say we do 'im
               Till it's done
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BY THE TIME I GET TO ARIZONA  -Ridenhour-Robertz-Gary G-Wiz-Depper-Mandrill-
                               Santiago-
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               I'm countin' down to the day deservin'
               Fittin' for a king
               I'm waitin' for the time when I can
               Get to Arizona
               'Cause my money's spent on
               The goddamn rent
               Neither party is mine not the
               Jackass or the elephant
               20.000 nig niggy nigas in the corner
               Of the cell block but they come
               From California
               Population none in the desert and sun
               Wit' a gun cracker
               Runnin' things under his thumb
               Starin' hard at the postcards
               Isn't it odd and unique?
               Seein' people smile wild in the heat
               120 degree
               'Cause I wanna be free
               What's a smilin' fact
               When the whole state's racist
               Why want a holiday F--k it 'cause I wanna
               So what if I celebrate it standin' on a corner
               I ain't drinkin' no 40
               I B thinkin' time wit' a nine
               Until we get some land
               Call me the trigger man
               Looki lookin' for the governor
               Huh he ain't lovin' ya
               But here to trouble ya
               He's rubbin' ya wrong
               Get the point come along
               An he can get to the joint
               I urinated on the state
               While I was kickin' this song
               Yeah, he appear to be fair
               The cracker over there
               He try to keep it yesteryear
               The good ol' days
               The same ol' ways
               That kept us dyin'
               Yes, you me myself and I'ndeed
               What he need is a nosebleed
               Read between the lines
               Then you see the lie
               Politically planned
               But understand that's all she wrote
               When we see the real side
               That hide behind the vote
               They can't understand why he the man
               I'm singin' 'bout a king
               They don't like it
               When I decide to mike it
               Wait I'm waitin' for the date
               For the man who demands respect
               'Cause he was great c'mon
               I'm on the one mission
               To get a politician
               To honor or he's a gonner
               By the time I get to Arizona
               I got 25 days to do it
               If a wall in the sky
               Just watch me go thru it
               'Cause I gotta do what I gotta do
               PE number one
               Gets the job done
               When it's done and over
               Was because I drove'er
               Thru all the static
               Not stick but automatic
               That's the way it is
               He gotta get his
               Talin' MLK
               Gonna find a way
               Make the state pay
               Lookin' for the day
               Hard as it seems
               This ain't no damn dream
               Gotta know what I mean
               It's team against team
               Catch the light beam
               So I pray
               I pray everyday
               I do and praise jah the maker
               Lookin' for culture
               I got but not here
               From jah maker
               Pushin' and shakin' the structure
               Bringin' down the babylon
               Hearin' the sucker
               That make it hard for the brown
               The hard Boulova
               I need now
               More than ever now
               Who's sittin' on my freedah'
               Opressor people beater
               Piece of the pick
               We picked a piece
               Of land that we deservin' now
               Reparation a piece of the nation
               And damn he got the nerve
               Another niga they say and classify
               We want too much
               My peep plus the whole nine is mine
               Don't think I even double dutch
               Here's a brother my attitude hit 'em
               Hang 'em high
               Blowin' up the 90s started tickin' 86
               When the blind get a mind
               Better start and earn while we sing it
               Now
               There will be the day we know those down and who will go
______________________________________________________________________________

MOVE!  -Ridenhour-Robertz-Gary G-Wiz-Depper- (Featuring Sister Souljah)
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               Signed, sealed, delivered I B yours
               I pour it on the breaks
               Till it break laws
               Givin' the gabbin'
               So the brothers be havin' it
               Or else the five fingers of dope'll
               Be grabbin' it
               Wit' no complaints
               Givin' uppin' I ain't
               On the mike
               Like Karl Malone in the paint
               Why rip a rapper
               When he flow like water
               I rather rush a television reporter
               The frauds that tried to front
               Watch ya back
               Stop pullin' those lil' stunts
               Assault and battery
               'Cause I snatched the battery
               Off his back...the TV pack
               Why pop the rhyme
               On a rhymer when I kick it
               Rather spend my time, spittin' on a bigot
               Who pumped the pimp
               That fed the fiends
               He got jumped by the brothers in Ft. Green
               They slapped the mack
               That kept us back
               Sucker suckin' the hood like drack
               So if ya draggin' us down
               Wit' the wack attitude
               Get up, lookout, get out the way
               Move
               Signed
               Sealed
               Definition of a set-up
               Pourin' it on and won't let up
               'Cause f-a-l-l-i-n
               Never applied
               To this brother that tried
               To let ya know
               The folk of the American joke
               That kept us broke
               Now I'm ready to rap
               Strong fax I swing
               Like Bo Jax
               I'm never calm on a bomb track
               60 percent 3/fifths
               Constituted
               Huh prostituted
               Why I'm mad
               'Cause it's written on the paper
               Right now
               Muther F--- bow
               Kicked
               The
               Lyric
               About
               The tricks
               Of the trade and the money made
               Who got the money betcha bottom
               Dollar bill
               Gonna find
               Some rich ol' bloodline
               But the blood is in the mud
               Take the whack an attack it
               Like a Skud
               To the patriotic hater
               That got paid off my people
               I'm rude
               Lookout, get out the way
               MOVE
               Signed
               An what I'm gettin' is mine
               I bring the noise
               To town
               So let's get down
               I cranked the beats
               Tearin' up the street
               And the park
               An it ain't Mozart
               Jack movin' out
               'Cause the black movin' in
               And its old
               I said it in
               Who Stole The Soul?
               (Listen) but 92 bring
               An attitude
               That say I don't give a
               Fuck
               About the old way
               This is a new day
               Tell Jack stay in the back
               And all the other
               Suckers
               That don't matter
               You got
               Somethin' to prove
               Scatter
               Get out the way
               MOVE!
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1 MILLION BOTTLEBAGS  -Ridenhour-Robertz-Gary G-Wiz-Depper-
______________________________________________________________________________

               One million bottlebags count 'em
               Think they can bounce the ounce
               And it get 'em
               Yo black spend 288 million
               Sittin' there waitin' for the fizz
               And don't know what the fuck it is
               An oh lemme tell you 'bout shorty
               He about seventeen lookin' like 40
               Treats his 40 dog better than his g
               When he gets a big b-o-t-t-l-e
               Oh he loves tha liquor
               But look watch shorty get sicker
               Year after year
               While he's thinkin' it's beer
               But it's not but he got it in his gut
               So what the fuck
               Yo niga what's up
               Now he's hostile to a brother lookin' out
               But I ain't mad I know what he about
               He's just a slave to the bottle and the can
               'Cause that's his man
               The malt liquor man
               One million bags count 'em all
               Other man gets happy
               Watch the killas drink 8 ball
               Don't know a damn thing
               But his breath stinkin'
               Then I ask a question you brother
               What the fuck is you drinkin'
               He don't know but it flow
               Out the bottle in a cup
               He call it gettin' fucked up
               Like we ain't fucked up already
               See the man they call Crazy Eddie
               Liquor man with the bottle in his hand
               He give the liquor man ten to begin
               Wit' no change and he run
               To get his brains rearranged
               Serve it to the home they're able
               To do without a table
               Beside what's inside ain't on the label
               They drink it thinkin' it's good
               But they don't sell the shit in the white neighborhood
               Exposin' the plan they get mad at me I understand
               They're slaves to the liquor man
               Back to my homeboy shorty
               He can drink it down
               And think nuttin' about it
               Pass it around and get tha 40 dog buzz
               At the same time
               Shorty can't remember what day it was
               Say I'm yellin' is fact
               Genocide kickin' in yo back
               How many times have you seen
               A black fight a black
               After drinkin' down a bottle
               Or a malt liquor six-pack
               Malt liquor bull
               What it is is bullshit Colt
               45 another gun to the brain
               Who's sellin' us pain
               In the hood another up to no good
               Plan that's designed by the other man
               But who drink it like water
               One and on till the stores reorder it
               Brothers cry broke but they still affordin' it
               Sippin' it lick drink it down oh nooo
               Drinkin' poison but they don't know
               It used to be wine
               A dollar and a dime
               Same man, drink in another time
               They could be hard as hell and don't give a damn
               But still be a sucker to the liquor man
______________________________________________________________________________

MORE NEWS AT 11  -Drayton-Gary G-Wiz-Robertz-
______________________________________________________________________________

               Yo yo yo gee, guess what happened
               To the burned up hand that was clappin'
               Too good to be true
               Getting all the guys turn to get in doo-doo
               Took it all for granted
               Then life start turn to granted
               Having everything to having nothing
               Now this turkey ain't got no stuffing
               On the couch ill puffing
               To get you buffin', it's you they got cuffin
               Your family they did not believe me
               Till they heard it for themselves on TV
               I called the crib, the clock said seven
               More news at 11

               Chrous
               More news at 11

               I was watching the TV screen
               Can't believe what I seen
               Three guys tried to rob a store
               Got more than what they bargained for
               They shot them right before my eyes
               All three just dropped like flies
               If they only thought before they did it
               Neither one of those three would have been with it
               As they fell to the floor and got rougher
               Now the family has got to suffer
               Pallbearers got to carry them
               While the family cry loud just to bury them
               Newscast and people were heavily amazed
               Flavor Flav just stared in a daze
               Eyewitness News - channel seven
               More news at 11

               This is Harry Allen hip hop activist and media
               assassin with my co-anchor Flavor Flav for P.E.
               TV and by the way if you still think that they're that
               don't believe the hype

______________________________________________________________________________

SHUT EM DOWN  -Ridenhour-Robertz-Gary G-Wiz-Depper-
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               I testified
               My mama cried
               Black people died
               When the other man lied
               See the TV, listen to me double trouble
               I overhaul and I'm comin'
               From the lower level
               I'm takin' tabs
               Sho nuff stuff to grab
               Like shirts it hurts
               Wit a neck to wreck
               Took a poll 'cause our soul
               Took a toll
               From the education
               Of a TV station
               But look around
               Hear go the sound of the wreckin' ball
               Boom and Pound
               When I
               Shut 'em down
               1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
               What I use in the battle for the mind
               I hit it hard
               Like it supposed
               Pullin' no blows to the nose
               Like uncle L said I'm rippin' up shows
               Then what it is
               Only 5 percent of the biz
               I'm addin' woes
               That's how da way it goes
               Then U think I rank never drank, point blank
               I own loans
               Suckers got me runnin' from the bank
               Civil liberty I can't see to pay a fee
               I never saw a way to pay a sap
               To read the law
               Then become a victim of a lawyer
               Don't know ya, never saw ya
               Tape cued
               Gettin' me sued
               Playin' games wit' my head
               What the judge said put me in the red
               Got me thinkin' 'bout a trigger to the lead
               No no
               My education mind say
               Suckers gonna pay
               Anyway
               There gonna be a day
               'Cause the troop they roll in
               To posse up
               Whole from the ground
               Ready to go
               Throw another round
               Sick of the ride
               It's suicide
               For the other side of town
               When I find a way to shut 'em down
               Who count the money
               In da neigborhood
               But we spendin' money
               To no end lookin' for a friend
               In a war to the core
               Rippin' up the poor in da stores
               Till they get a brother
               Kickin' down doors
               Then I figure I kick it bigger
               Look 'em dead in the eye
               And they wince
               Defense is pressurized
               They don't want it to be
               Another racial attack
               In disguise so give some money back
               I like Nike but wait a minite
               The neighborhood supports so put some
               Money in it
               Corporations owe
               Dey gotta give up the dough
               To da town
               or else
               We gotta shut 'em down
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A LETTER TO THE NEW YORK POST  -Drayton-Gary G-Wiz-Robertz-
______________________________________________________________________________

               Yo gee
               Come and get your New York Post
               New York Post right here
               Come on y'all
               Get the bost stubost stubost
               Coasta coasta New York Post
               Yo New York Post don't brag or boast
               Dissin' flavor when he's butter that you put on your toast
               Put my address in the paper cause I smacked that girl
               She's the mother of my kid's that I took around the world
               Disagreements having scuffles when you share upon
               You shouldn't try to drain subjects in a duck pond
               If you're gonna tell a story about people's worries
               Watch what you tell 'em cause they don't bring you glory
               It only brings agony, ask James Cagney
               He beat up on a guy when he found he was a fagney
               Cagney is a favorite he is my boy
               He don't jive around he's a real McCoy
               Chuck D yeah, you tellin' Flav we got to let 'em know
               Here's a letter to the New York Post
               The worst piece of paper on the east coast
               Matter of fact the whole state's forty cents
               in New York City fifty cents elsewhere
               It makes no goddamn sense at all
               America's oldest continuously published daily piece of bullshit
               Flavor Flav is the one that makes The Post money
               Writers making violence in headlines funny
               Tryin' to undress my past until it's naked
               Post got Flavor from sellin' no records
               Europe Asia to the street of New York
               Flavor Flav known for his finesse talk
               Do it to ya for The Post to employ me
               New York Post can't destroy me
               Rapper of Public Enemy, rapstar beats lover
               With the headline of a fucked up cover
               Out the pot took plate New York Post
               get your story straight motherfucker
               It always seem they make our neighborhood look bad
               Here's a letter to the New York Post
               Ain't worth the paper it's printed on
               Founded in 1801 by Alexander Hamilton
               That is 190 years continuous of fucked up news
               Yo one can play the game, two can play the game
               Yo Flav read on can't forget you either Jet
               Flavor Flav is your best Jet yet
               My own people own the most business
               Write on faith of value'sness
               Should have checked with me before you wrote it
               Got it from another source and quote it
               Put it out like the new year bull drop
               In every beauty parlor and barber shop
               Flavor Flav world renown
               Can't keep a man like Flavor down
               Yo Jet be a good host
               Don't print bull like the New York Post
               Augh, looks like somebody slipped up here
               Anyway here's a letter to the New York Post
               Black newspaper and magazines are supposed to get
               the real deal from the source y'all
               Sorry, Jet you took the info straight out of The Post
               Burned us just like toast
               When it comes to getting you facts straight about P.E.
               Get your shit correct
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GET THE F---OUTTA DODGE  -Ridenhour-Houston- (Featuring True Mathematics)
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               CHUCK D

               I was wheelin'
               Wit' the boom in the back
               The treble was level
               I like it like that
               I was rolly-roll-a-roll rollin'
               5-o looked and said hold it
               And I stopped still
               I never got ill
               'Cause my license was clean an I showed
               A peace powwow
               Instead of pow pow
               I'm straight up and I'm straight
               So how you like me now
               But I know how you do
               You're straight from Babylon
               But I know how you do
               You're straight from Babylon
               They said turn it down
               'Cause it's a new law
               You never seen us before
               But we're raw like a war
               They warned me once
               They warned me twice
               So I knew I was warned
               They had it goin' on
               I got the f--- outta Dodge
               Wit' my Bronco
               60 miles per hour
               50 miles to go
               And I be pumpin' the sound
               Drownin' out the cars
               Which tape should I rock
               L.L.'s or R.A.'s
               I'm in the streets of New York
               (Go away)
               So I pop in my Kool G Rap 'n' Polo tape
               And they was at it again
               Sirens in the air
               Ahhh sh-t
               So I'm outta here
               But the blue in the front
               Called the blue in the back
               They cut me off
               Stopped me dead in my tracks
               But this is minimal
               I'm not a criminal
               I always did what I did
               Because I'm not a kid
               But they looked me down
               They stared me down
               Told me what I did
               I ain't wit' it
               'Cause word around town was a stickup
               Yeah, yeah, yeah
               B-boy niga in a pickup
               But I was jeepin' and creepin'
               Just a keepin' it down, sound
               Here we go the run around
               Blamin' me for the hardcore roar
               But they the ones wit' the 44's
               So I'm coolin'
               I know the beat is rulin'
               Too loud for the crowd
               The bass is large yeah
               So I'll get the f--- outta Dodge
               That's right y'all, el commando
               El commando you're in demand-o

               SGT HAWKES

               Sgt. Hawkes and I'm down wit' the cop scene
               I'm a rookie and I'm rollin' wit' a swat team
               Packin' a nine can't wait to use it
               Crooked cop yeah that's my music
               Up against the wall don't gimme no lip son
               A bank is robbed and you fit the description
               And I ain't your mama and I ain't your pops
               Keep your music down or you might get shot
               This is a warning so watch your tail
               Or I'm a have to put your ass in jail
               I'm the police and I'm in charge
               You don't like it get the f--- outta Dodge
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BRING THA NOIZE (WITH ANTHRAX)  -Ridenhour-Shocklee-Sadler-Anthrax-
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               Bass! How low can you go?
               Death row what a brother knows
               Once again, back is the incredible
               The rhyme animal
               The incredible D. Public Enemy number one
               Five-O said "Freeze!" and I got numb
               Can't I tell 'em that I really never had a gun?
               But it's the wax that the Terminator X spun
               Now they got me in a cell 'cause my records they sell
               'Cause a brother like me said "Well
               Farrakhan's a prophet and I think you ought to listen to
               What he can say to you, what you ought to do"
               Follow for now, power to the people say,
               "Make a miracle. D, pump the lyrical"
               Black is back, all in, we're gonna win
               Check it out, yeah y'all, here we go again

               Chorus
               Turn it up! Bring tha noize!

               Never badder than bad 'cause the brother is madder than mad
               At the fact that's corrupt as a senator
               Soul on a roll, but you treat it like soap on a rope
               'Cause the beats in the lines are so dope
               Listen for lessons I'm saying inside music
               that the critics are blasting me for
               They'll never care for the brothers and sisters
               now across the country has us up for the war

               We got to demonstrate, come on now, they're gonna have to wait
               Till we get it right
               Radio Stations I question their blackness
               They call themselves black, but we'll see if they play this

               Chorus

               Get from in front of me, the crowd runs to me
               My deejay is warm, he's X, I call him Norm, ya know
               He can cut a record from side to side
               So what, the ride, the glide
               should be much safer than a suicide
               Soul control, beat is the father of your rock'n'roll
               Music for whatcha, for whichin', you call a band, man
               Makin' a music, abuse it, but you can't do it, ya know
               You call 'em demos, but we ride limos, too
               Whatcha gonna do? Rap is not afraid of you
               Beat is for Sonny Bono, beat is for Yoko Ono
               Run DMC first said a deejay could be a band
               Stand on its feet, get you out your seat
               Beat is for Eric B, and L.L. as well, hell
               Wax is for Anthrax, still it can rock bells
               Ever forever, universal, it will sell
               Time for me to exit, Terminator X-it

               Chorus

               From coast to coast, so you stop being like a comatose
               'Stand, my man? The beat's the same with a boast dose
               Rock with some pizzazz, it will last why you ask?
               Roll with the rock stars, still never get accepted as
               We got to pleed the fifth, we can investigate
               Don't need to wait, get the record straight
               Hey, posse's in effect, got the Flavor Terminator
               X to sign checks, play to get paid
               We got to check it out down on the avenue
               A magazine or two is dissing me and dissing you
               Yeah, I'm telling you
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