[Intro]
Yo D, what? Come on (Yeah)
What? What? Come on (Yeah)
[Verse 1: Talib Kweli]
"Give me the fortune, keep the fame," said my man Louis
I agreed, know what he mean because we live the truest lie
I asked him why we follow the law of the bluest eye
He looked at me, he thought about it, was like, "I'm clueless, why?"
The question was rhetorical, the answer is horrible
Our morals are out of place and got our lives full of sorrow
And so tomorrow coming later than usual
Waiting on someone to pity us while we finding beauty in the hideous
They say money's the root of all evil but I can't tell
You know what I mean, pesos, francs, yens, cowrie shells, dollar bills
Or is it the mindstate that's ill?
Creating crime rates to fill the new prisons they build
Over money and religion there's more blood to spill
The wounds of slaves in cotton fields that never heal, what's the deal?
A lot of cats who buy records are straight broke
But my language universal they be reciting my quotes
While R&B singers hit bad notes, we rock the boat of thought
That my man Louis' statements just provoked
Caught up, in conversations of our personal worth
Brought up, through endangered species status on the planet Earth
Survival tactics means, busting gats to prove you hard
Your firearms are too short to box with God
Without faith, all of that is illusionary
Raise my son, no vindication of manhood necessary
[Hook]
Not strong (Only aggressive)
Not free (We only licensed)
Not compassionate, only polite (Now who the nicest?)
Not good but well behaved
(Chasing after death, so we can call ourselves brave?)
Still living like mental slaves
Hiding like thieves in the night from life
Illusions of oasis making you look twice
Hiding like thieves in the night from life
Illusions of oasis making you look twice
[Verse 2: Mos Def]
Yo, I'm sure that everybody out listening agree
That everything you see ain't really how it be
A lot of jokers out running in place, chasing the style
Be a lot going on beneath the empty smile
Most cats in my area be loving the hysteria
Synthesized surface conceals the interior
America, land of opportunity, mirages and camouflages
More than usually, speaking loudly
Saying nothing, you confusing me, you losing me
Your game is twisted, want me enlisted in your usury
Foolishly, most men join the ranks cluelessly
Buffoonishly accept the deception, believe the perception
Reflection rarely seen across the surface of the looking glass
Walking the street, wondering who they be looking past
Looking gassed with them imported designer shades on
Stars shine bright, but the light rarely stays on
Same song, just remixed, different arrangement
Put you on a yacht but they won't call it a slave ship
Strangeness, you don't control this, you barely hold this
Screaming "brand new", when they just sanitized the old shit
Suppose it's, just another clever Jedi mind trick
That they been running across stars through all the time with
I find it's distressing, there's never no in-between
We either niggas or Kings, we either bitches or Queens
The deadly ritual seems immersed in the perverse
Full of short attention spans, short tempers, and short skirts
Long barrel automatics released in short bursts
The length of black life is treated with short worth
Get yours first, them other niggas secondary
That type of illing that be filling up the cemetery
This life is temporary but the soul is eternal
Separate the real from the lie, let me learn you
Not strong, only aggressive cause the power ain't directed
That's why we are subjected to the will of the oppressive
Not free, we only licensed, not live, we just exciting
Cause the captors own the masters to what we writing
Not compassionate, only polite, we well trained
Our sincerity's rehearsed in stage, it's just a game
Not good, but well behaved cause the camera survey
Most of the things that we think, do or say
We chasing after death just to call ourselves brave
But everyday, next man meet with the grave/Great
I give a damn if any fan recall my legacy
I'm trying to live life in the sight of God's memory like that y'all
[Mos Def]
A lot of people don't understand the true criteria of things
Can't just accept the appearance, have to get the true essence
(They ain't looking around)
[Hook]
[Outro: Mos Def]
Stop hiding, stop hiding, stop hiding yo' face
Stop hiding, stop hiding, cause ain't no hiding place
(Ad libs to fade)
