Yo turn this motherfucking shit up!   Ha ha ha   Uhuru, coupe tete boule kay   Rwanda, Nigeria, Africa's in the house   My nigga D.R.      [Verse 1]   Nigga the red is for the blood in my arm   The black is for the gun in my palm   And the green is for the tram that grows natural   Like locks on Africans   Holdin the smoke from the herb in my abdomen   Camouflage fatigues, and daishikis   Somewhere in between N.W.A. and P.E.   I'm black like Steve Biko   Raised in the ghetto by the people   Fuck the police you know how we do      [Verse 2]   Ayo my life is like Roots it's a true story   It's too gory for them televised fables on cable   I'ma a runaway slave watching the north star   Shackles on my forearm , runnin with the gun on my palm   I'm an African , never was an African-American   Blacker than black I take it back to my origin   Same skin hated by the klansmen   Big nose and lips, big hips and butts, dancin, what      chorus   I'm a African   I'm a African, uhh   And I know what's happenin   I'm a African   I'm a African, uhh   And I know what's happenin   You a African?   You a African?, louder   Do you know what's happenin?   I'm a African   I'm a African, uhh   And I know what's happenin      It's plain to see, you cant change me   cuz I'm a people army for life (repeat 3 times)      Where you from fool?      [Verse 3]   No I wasn't born in Ghana, but Africa is my momma   And I did not end up here from bad karma   Or from B-Ball, selling mad crack or rappin   Peter Tosh try to tell us what happened   He was sayin if you black then you African   So they had to kill him, and make him a villain   Cuz he was teachin the children   I feel him, he was tryin to drop us a real gem   That's why we bucking holes in the ceilin when we hearin      chorus      A-F-R-I-C-A, Puerto Rico, Haiti, and J.A.   New York and Cali, F-L-A   No it aint 'bout where you stay, it's bout the motherland   (repeat 2X)      [Verse 4]   It's like tank top, flip flop   Knotty dread lock, fuck a cop, hip hop   Make your head bop   Bounce to this, socialist movement   My environment made me the nigga I am   Uncle Sam came and got me and arrested my fam   Try to infiltrate and murder off the best of my clan   I'm not American, punk, Democrat, or Republican   Remember that, most of the cats we know, be hustlin   My momma work, all her life and still strugglin   I blame it on the government and say it on the radio   (What) and if you don't already know   All these Uncle Tom ass kissin niggas gotta go