[Lupe Fiasco]
|
Your attention please, your attention I need it
|
So I can sit you in a position from which I see it
|
Where I'm seated is scenic
|
Heavy-weighter, slim as the Machinist, so bulimic
|
Which means you somewhere in between it
|
I take it back for you like the Wyld Stallyns of San Dimas
|
I'm in the market for low-mile 360 Modenas
|
And a good organic cleaners
|
My car always a winner
|
Your car's always pitted
|
We should call it Stanley Steamers
|
Most of my friends in gangs
|
My new nickname is gang is con/Ghengis Khan
|
But without the 'Ye, but his last name's my side
|
I ride with the demeanors/the meanest
|
I'm armed to the teeth
|
You're Venus and you've never been to the Dinas/dentist)
|
School of Hard Knocks, I dean it
|
I done it, as well as a celebrated alumnus
|
I donate to the campus and my name's on the arenas
|
But you can't bring it to my court not even with subpoenas
|
Cause you can't play my sport but you can still cheerlead us
|
And you can't sit there, that section's for the seniors
|
And the sexy senoritas so just move up to the bleachers
|
How you going to school me when I grew up with your teachers
|
I know that you can't hear me
|
Cause I blew up all the speakers
|
And the power line is hanging
|
Cause I threw up all the sneakers
|
I ate up the imposters/pasta
|
And I chewed through all the pizzas
|
I blacked out with a black card
|
And I maxed out all the Visas
|
Accreditation so prestigious
|
Just walk across my stage
|
Your life will be completed
|
Don't need financial aid
|
Cause this is just some free shit
|
You been properly prepared
|
Throw your hats up in the air
|
I'm red hot, Chilly/Red Hot Chili, I'm Anthony Kiedis
|
My spirit smells teenage
|
And Chi-town's feeling excellent
|
We hit them with the President
|
See we set the precedent
|
I don't feel I'm best
|
I just feel I'm better than
|
|
[Chorus: Thom Yorke/Radiohead]
|
Everyone, everyone around here
|
Everyone is so near
|
So alone, so alone
|
|
[Lupe Fiasco]
|
See I don't disagree
|
This is just a grievance
|
This ain't dissing
|
This is civil disobedience
|
How you going to make hip-hop
|
Without all the ingredients?
|
Lot of mouths to feed
|
Plus a lot of greediness
|
And that greed, outshines the neediness
|
What niggas need is some question they authority
|
And tune out all the TV shit
|
And we be this
|
So I give them more
|
You see I did it for
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Lupe Fiasco]
|
Yeah, I am back up on the airwaves
|
Feeling like a Soldier and I ain't talking where the Bears play
|
Flair, look how I Fred Astaire down the staircases
|
Fixing to be a hair-raising tortoise versus hare race
|
So you should hang around here/hair like some earrings
|
I know attention's all about how you pair things
|
So when I want them to hear me out
|
I just sit them next to some pictures of Rosa splitting with her titties out
|
And what's written on her titties is what it's really about
|
Then her vagina is some poor kids from China
|
Nipples nuclear missiles
|
Ass is a daughter without a dad
|
Back is like Afghanistan, Iraq
|
Health care hair, drive-by thighs
|
Education lips, HIV eyes
|
Environment feet
|
Justice get her so wet, brains get you brains
|
You can fuck her if you protest
|
But before you bust in her face, finish listening to the tape
|
Enemy of the State
|
|
-----------------
|
The National Anthem
|
Lupe Fiasco |