I got a letter from the government the other day. Opened it and read it, it said they were suckers. They wanted me for their army or whatever. Picture me givin' a damn, I said, never.
We gotta kick 'em out. . Well I feel pretty good. And I guess that I could get crazy now, baby. 'Cause we all got in tune. When the dressing room got hazy.
Hey don't miss out on what you're passing. You're missing the hootah of the funky buddah. Eluder of the fucked up style's that get wicked. So come on as I start to kick it.
Coolin' on the scene like a horse in a stable. A brother got ill and tried to snatch a fat cable. I stepped back, like it wasn't no thing. I Punched him in the jaw with the fat gold ring.
You tell me you like the taste. You just need an excuse. You tell me it calms your nerves. You just think it looks cool. You tell me you want to be different.
Rage Against The Machine. Miscellaneous. Hadda Be Playing On The Jukebox. It had to be flashin' like the daily double. It had to be playin' on TV. It had to be loud mouthed on the comedy hour.
Written by allen ginsberg, performed by rage against the machine. . It had to be flashin' like the daily double. It had to be playin' on tv. It had to be loud mouthed on the comedy hour.
Transmission third world war third round. A decade of the weapon of sound above ground. No shelter if you're lookin' for shade. I lick shots at the brutal charade.
It had to be flashin like the daily double. It had to be playin on tv. It had to be loud mouthed on the comedy hour. It had to be announced over loud speakers.
Good Evening,. We want to just quickly send a nice friendly message. to uh, Fraternal Order of Police in Philadelphia.. . Here's something nice and friendly,.
Good Evening,. We want to just quickly send a nice friendly message. to uh, Fraternal Order of Police in Philadelphia.. . Here's something nice and friendly,.
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 charade.
Solo, I'm a soloist on a solo list. All live, never on a floppy disk. Inka, inka, bottle of ink. Paintings of rebellion. Drawn up by the thoughts I think.
Uggh!. Pull, pull. Wuh!. Come on!. Uggh!. . Solo, I'm a soloist on a solo list. Al live, never on a floppy disk. Inka, inka, bottle of ink. Paintings of rebellion.
Down on the street where the faces shine. Floatin' around I'm a real low mind. See a pretty thing in a wall. See a pretty thing in a wall. . In a wall.
Yeah I'm rollin' down Rodeo wit a shotgun. These people ain't seen a brown skin man. Since their grandparents bought one. . So now I'm rollin' down Rodeo wit a shotgun.
Huh!. Check it...uggh!. Silence. Something about silence makes me sick. Cause silence can be violent. Sorta like a slit wrist. . If the vibe was suicide.
Greed!. Causing innocent blood to flow. Entire culture, lost in the overthrow. They came to seize and take whatever they please. Then all they gave back was death and disease.
Are you ready?. (Ad libbed ). You think you can tell us what to do You think you can tell us what to. wear. You think that you're better Well you better get ready).
Are you ready?. You think you can tell us what to do?. You think you can tell us what to wear?. You think that you're better?. Well you better get ready,.