Haile Selassie Karate - Pharoahe Monch, Mr. Porter

I said I ain’t gangsta even though I grew up in the hood

I just wanna feed my people, so misunderstood

Struggling (struggling), hustling (hustling), trying to make it right

I just wanna spread the light to help us free our minds

Well oh yeah, you are now in tune to www dot fuckthemmotherfuckersradio

Where you will only hear racial shit

E pluribus unum, all seeing eye, ocular exam

The apocalypse, back by popular demand

Innocuous but still leave a stage with blood in my hand for the populous

Put a fist in the sky

«Licensed to kill» italicized into my ID or «Rocky Illuminati»

Haile Selassie Karate, John «The Beast» Mugabi

King Jaffe in the lobby with the fur made of a lion

The eye of hoarse mouths, I am vibrant

Prominent constellations of Orion (whoa!)

The reason why my stars are in alignment (uh)

The renegade, Allahu Akbar, rock star

Tossing homemade grenades, CD’s at NYPD cop cars

Just to get the revolution to pop off

Fraudulent stock, funded with Louis Vuitton knock-offs

Hijacking helicopters, detonate your metropolis

While I’m in the cockpit, politicking like Stephanopoulos

And my oesophagus is quite atomic when I vomit

It’s bioengineered urbanomics

The formula: truth divided by innovative ebonics

Times smooth lime, crushed ice and a splash of tonic

Nigga my past lies are astronomic

Smoking hash in a cathedral with Nostradamus

At mass, discussing Martin Luther’s «Free at Last» speech

Step on my British Walkers get your ass beat