What's The Word Lyrics - Chubb Rock

Mr. Bush, you better check out your own part in the divine drama 

You may find you the Devil 

Listen, 'cause in 1990 

Chubb Rock and the gang is on a banned mission 

Hostility will rule like a Jamaican [Incomprehensible] 

And ooh filled with dumplings, hopefully no dumpings 

Like guns will be present while I keep the people jumpin' 

Not too much, South Africa isn't free yet 

I spoke to the kids from Brooklyn to T-Neck 

New Jersey, and they heard me while I cursed the 

White minority regime, painted an ill scene 

Brothers and sisters over there dyin' 

Mandela in a cell in Robbin Island 

Thank God he's out now, and while I sing 

I know he has things in a full swing, yeah 

This year crumb-snatcher Thatcher, we're gonna catch her 

Being a klutz, her husband is a drunk putz 

He acts absurd, now what's the word? 

Johannesburg 

Johannesburg 

Okay okay, come on 

Okay okay, come on 

Okay okay, come on 

Okay okay, come on 

Okay okay, come on 

Okay okay, come on 

If he's the President, pullin' out my Ray-Gun 

Listen, brothers and sisters 

It's time for everyone to go fishin' 

For your history, open a book and read 

Between the lines, don't recline your mind 

Sometimes I don't know how to make it understood 

That a lot of black movies have been tampered by Hollywood 

So it's important, take the name and date and step 

Research it yourself, 'cause you owe a large debt 

To yourself, your history is yours to keep 

Or you won't reap in the benefits, don't let Mr. Rabinuwitz 

Sell you something with a zing, to get blissed 

Leave the rock to the Nazis, excel in Yahtzee 

Be a bookworm, not a bookend, 'cause men 

Before you have died so you can taste freedom 

If we can't beat 'em we'll delete 'em, so now 

What's the word? 

Johannesburg 

Johannesburg 

Okay okay, come on 

Okay okay, come on 

Okay okay, come on 

Okay okay, come on 

Okay okay, come on 

Okay okay, come on 

Okay okay, come on 

Okay okay, come on 

Okay okay, come on 

If he's the President, pullin' out my Ray-Gun 

Throughout history, no physical might has ever crushed 

The invincible spirit of a nation 

And yes, we are a nation, a different coloration 

But that isn't significant, pull a ligament 

While you're standin', pumpin' your fist they will miss 

And crumble and remain in the cold abyss 

And now it's time for action, action is the verb 

The pronoun I will say, scream, "What's the word?" 

Now come on, what's the word? 

Alright, I'm gonna bring in the aspect 

Of my man Rob-n-O 

The Jamaica aspect, come now 

I'm a soldier, I'm a soldier 

I'm gonna chase up Gaddafi and run down Botha 

Botha betta run him betta start [Incomprehensible] 

I mash up [Incomprehensible] when he conquer 

Your gun gonna fire, come fatter 

Say it to the sky like a ball of fire 

Jah come foot rule over [Incomprehensible] 

Gun gonna fire, I'm a soldier 

Alright, time for the American English aspect 

From my man Rob Swinga, come now 

Yo, I wonder why is it that in Africa 

The black people are the 2nd and 3rd class citizens? 

I mean I thought Africa was black 

Isn't that what they told us in our own history books in America? 

I mean, yo it's something to think about 

They gonna tell me I'm black and I'm from Africa 

Yet still somebody's tellin' me 

I have no right to say what goes on there 

I mean I can't understand that at all! 

That's something to really make you 

Stop and think and say 

"Hmm"