Yeah yeah yeah yeah   This goes out to all the women and men   From New York to London   L.A. to Tokyo   Struggling to keep their self-respect   In this climate of misogyny   And money worship   And mass production of hip hop's illegitimate child (hip hop)   And this especially goes out to Gillis Scott Herring   Friend, living legend, and proto-rapper who wrote   The revolution will not be televised   Much respect      Your revolution will not happen between these thighs   Your revolution will not happen between these thighs   Your revolution will not happen between these thighs   Not happen between these thighs   Not happen between these thighs      The real revolution ain't about booty size   The Versaces you buys   Or the Lexus you drives   And though we've lost Biggie Smalls   Baby, your notorious revolution   Will never allow you to lace no lyrical douche in my bush   Your revolution will not be you killing me softly with Fugees   Your revolution ain't gonna knock me up without no ring   And produce little future emcees   Because that revolution will not happen between these thighs      Your revolution will not find me in the backseat of a jeep   With LL hard as hell   You know, doin' it and doin' it and doin' it well   You know, doin' it and doin' it and doin' it well (nah come on now)      Your revolution will not be you smackin' it up   Flippin' it, or rubbin' it down   Nor will it take you downtown or humpin' around   Because that revolution will not happen between these thighs      Your revolution will not have me singing    "Ain't no nigga like the one I got"   And your revolution will not be you sending me for no drip, drip VD   shot   And your revolution will not involve me feelin' your nature rise   Or helping you fantasize   Because that revolution will not happen between these thighs   No no, not between these thighs      Oh, my Jamaican brother, your revolution will not make you feel   Bombastic and really fantastic   And have you groping in the dark for that rubber wrapped in plastic      You will not be touching your lips to my triple dip of french   vanilla, butter pecan, chocolate deluxe   Or having Akinyele's dream, (mm hmm)    A 6-foot blowjob machine (mm hmm)   You want to subjugate your queen? (uh-huh)   Think I'm a put it in my mouth just cuz you made a few bucks?   Please brother please      Your revolution will not be me tossing my weave   And making me believe I'm some caviar-eating ghetto mafia clown   Or me giving up my behind, just so I can get signed   And maybe having somebody else write my rhymes   I'm Sarah Jones, not Foxy Brown   You know I'm Sarah Jones, not Foxy Brown      Your revolution makes me wonder, where could we go   If we could drop the empty pursuit of props and ego   We'd revolt back to our Roots, use a little Common Sense   On a quest to make love De La Soul, no pretense      But your revolution will not be you flexing your little sex and status   To express what you feel   Your revolution will not happen between these thighs   Will not happen between these thighs   Will not be you shaking and me (*yawn*) faking   Between these thighs   Because the real revolution   That's right I said the real revolution   You know I'm talking about the revolution   When it comes, it's gonna be real   It's gonna be real   It's gonna be real   When it finally comes   When it finally comes   It's gonna be real, yeah yeah