Resurrection Lyrics - Public Enemy

Damn back again up on track again 

[Incomprehensible] 'round the bend 

Some of y'all black again, it got dark 

On your mark get set, out of sight out of mind 

Hypocrites forget like marionettes, strings in the back like nets 

The chosen one who fuckin' laugh themselves to death 

Lack of rhymes, meaningless punch lines 

Battle for your mind like Israel and Palestine 

Good news in some fuckin' hard ass times 

No more disses, repeated hook lines and chorus' 

Days full of doris' got issues and wishes 

Got the jam but gettin' paid up off the misses 

Ain't nothin' wrong but wait, fuck another love song 

It's the R&B strangler bringing noise in the wranglers 

Rock all the heads big times and Alzheimer's 

Shot the pill while I drop skills up in Brazil 

Now the pitch, time for a label switch 

They psych it, I put the roof up on top of this bitch 

Guess what like Tony [Incomprehensible] 

They forgot, I used to [Incomprehensible] around that clock 

Lord save us from that sword of Davis that kidnap 

Hip hop tracks and the beats in the game of rap 

Put my soul in it, careless about the gold in it 

Boom the shotty, got 'em running from the Paparazzi 

Lodi dodi, when the Feds come and doom your party 

Cracker in the back, don't you know it's Illuminati 

Ain't nothing changed, PE we be the same crew 

Resurrection in the game here to save you 

Yo, it's going down baby, it's going down family 

That's my word, we gettin' ready to turn this shit 

To the two and three zeros, you know what I'm sayin' 

Have all the clocks goin' backwards 

Have everything goin' haywire 

You laughed before let's see you laugh now, blue cow 

Hell now, black cow, word to birds 

Word to bird, word to bird nigga 

One on one, hard like tarot cards 

Behold the one man million man march 

Takes a nation, 400 year violation 

Apocalyptic no power in this happy hour 

Hazardous, no you don't like Lazarus 

Just black baby, where my soul be at 

Star spelled backwards is rats, let bra man rap 

I'm trapped in the back with these industry cats 

One step forward two steps back 

Making habits claiming habitats, ratta tat tat 

Wish you could turn back the hands of time 

And get mental, pop the tape eight track Lincoln Continental 

I'm the mouth that roared, swore to the Lord 

The eye of hawk both live and die by the sword 

The forbidden, the six man be sinnin' from the beginnin' 

You know the suckers hand be hidden 

Intense, knocking your block with some sense 

PE got more jewels than dead presidents 

The devil try to get me cross like a crucifix 

But I'm focused on the vultures like a local locust 

New world order is goin' down, gettin' 'round 

I'm as spooked as that by the sound 

Fuck it with Saddam I'll bring a new Saigon 

Ain't nothing changed PE we be the same crew boy 

Yeah, that's right, nine eight no jokin' 

We coming out smokin' 

And for all y'all that's been sleeping on us 

You're lacking, you're lacking 

Ayyo, check 1-2, I've got my man 

That's about to sneak up on you and your crew 

Ya know what I'm saying, ayyo check 1-2 

Ayyo, Masta Killa I want you to put one up in 'em son 

And show 'em you ain't done son 

Ball 'em with the back of the gun son, make 'em run son 

Sliding down broadway beneath the J line 

Slumped in the incline position mind travels 

Beyond the shell which holds the soul 

Controlled by the Allah, I'll be the most humble 

But also punishable 

For those who are unlawful to righteousness 

I strive to stay alive and live this 

Many fell victim to the wisdom 

I mastered sex, the track ovulates 

The mic like prostate gland impregnates 

Onto the paper the pain pours 

Or the love of my brother that hurts just the same 

Fuck fame, my gun I bust to maintain 

Moods are insidious baffles and eludes 

Those who label the God as anti-social 

Chose not to apply their third eye 

I travel at the speed of thought rate, it's fatal 

What will enable a man to levitate 

And you can take that and put that 

On the back of your brain son 

Coming straight to you from Masta Killa 

Ain't nottin' iller 

I told you PE is still in full effect 

Beyond the year 2000 

We ain't taking no shorts and y'all need to know that 

To make your head fat boy 

Public enemy