Every one of my lyrics when you hear it   it'll burn your face as sulfuric acid   If you're holdin' the microphone I suggest you pass it.   Hand it over quickly   Sickly's the only way I know how to drop it   Every time I kick it people look at me like my name's   Ripley's Believe it or Not   Got a wonderful time slot here at the Zero Hour   Been laughed at for rappin' ever since I was a little coward   By all the kids who towered over me   Overpowered me and beat the shit out of my face   Like it's the job clock in an hour   And how are we the ones who powered these machines   And we can't get nothin' done, we controlled by kings and queens   The unseen son, the one in the attic   Hope the dream don't come true   America, she loves you   Without us who would back up the groceries   Or price up the clothes that you normally don't see   On average joes, oh that's me   Little dirtbag rapper and glad to be      I like my hip-hop dropped in tip-top condition   I keep on spittin' but no one listens   I must drop fire, I can not wait for a fall   This is our only hope, this is a war   This is a war      *Every picture you see is a reflection of marketing   The targeting of certain audiences as only a major corporation could   It's simple: They feed you shit. Just stop eating it, genius.      Run up in the Universal Office and find Doug Morris   Pound him in his office, his life ain't real pretty   Like bitches that sing choruses   These forces are forcin' us to try to relate   In spite of what they lead you to believe in the first place   Can't move in the city 'cause it's packed so tight   Everybody up in my business, dissin' the lyrics I write   Dismissin' my raps off their shoulder like the never happened   Actin' so thuggish like they tough like Tinactin   It's rubbish, it's all bubble gum to me   Nobody bumpin' me stoppin' by your record company   I'ma flatten MC's with platinum CDs   You see these two fists? They each got MT   Tons of Budweiser, got balls of steel wire   Like a sidewalk and supposedly ya'll are keepin' it real   But mostly ya just provoke and poke at me   And hopefully you remember your jokes to me      I like my hip-hop dropped in tip-top condition   I keep on spittin' but no one listens   I must drop fire, I can not wait for a fall   This is our only hope, this is a war   This is a war      *If ??? rap in you was approved by tests you'd see it's got nothin' to do with you.   The real gangstas are old white men putting these records out.   Hip-hop? That's the last thing they give a fuck about.*      By any means necessary I'm buryin' advesary   Every vocal performance it's important to stary vary   If you wanna feed all then you got motorcall   And I'm on the line, we can meet at the grassy knoll at ten   Maybe rap was never hip-hop to them   Seems like it's just a cash crop to them   So don't claim you spit it proper then   This war must never end   I can no longer pretend to be down   If I die in a battle that's fine   I got a potion named Revolution number 9   I got a heart that beats for the art   This is hip-hop for the love   Not a 1 on the charts      I like my hip-hop dropped in tip-top condition   I keep on spittin' but no one listens   I must drop fire, I can not wait for a fall   This is our only hope, this is a war   This is a war      This is a war, this is a war   This is a war, this is a war   This is a war, this is a war