(Chorus)
I'll rock a Public Enemy shirt like John Connor, fight for the future and use a mic to author the words that get scrawled on the manifesto, music's a revolution, so let's roll, these days everything is cliché, people do whatever just to be played by the DJ, I want songs that are quotable, that I can think about, not just jams with a dance that make my phone ring aloud

(Verse 1)
All the suits always got a new trend to follow through, whether it's chopped and screwed music or it's Autotune, but that's not what I'ma do, because creativity I'm thirstin' more for than Sonic Youth, I might have to go to war with all o' you, don't care if ya make money, so do whores and prostitutes, it's cool to make some cash along with the art form, but as a rapper, I care about the latter far more, it seems like ever since everything went digital, now people only care about residuals, record companies strictly concerned with how the business goes, 'cause their bank accounts suffer the biggest tolls, they call the downloading criminal, but the crimes against art that they've committed, are reciprocal, so a lot's changed since the old days, but not necessarily for the better, so I proclaim

(Chorus)
I'll rock a Public Enemy shirt like John Connor, fight for the future and use a mic to author the words that get scrawled on the manifesto, music's a revolution, so let's roll, these days everything is cliché, people do whatever just to be played by the DJ, I want songs that are quotable, that I can think about, not just jams with a dance that make my phone ring aloud

(Verse 2)
People say there's a generational gap, but not everyone's the same in this new generation o' rap, I was born in '86, I'm part o' Generation Y, I'm not the only one askin' my generation why, we're not all the same, we're not all as lame, we're not all constricted by the radio's ball and chain, maybe now you understand what Nas was sayin', it makes me sick, it's nauseatin', I don't give a shit, so it's constipatin', sold your soul for a hit, you got a bond with Satan, lookin' for somethin' to fit, but it's always changin', identity crisis, but the industry likes it, when everyone bites shit, 'cause once hip hop turned to pop, that's when the bubble burst, so, I guess the name's fitting, and it fuckin' hurts, too much bubblegum stuck up on the billboard, is this really what Biggie and Pac got killed for

(Chorus)
I'll rock a Public Enemy shirt like John Connor, fight for the future and use a mic to author the words that get scrawled on the manifesto, music's a revolution, so let's roll, these days everything is cliché, people do whatever just to be played by the DJ, I want songs that are quotable, that I can think about, not just jams with a dance that make my phone ring aloud

(Verse 3)
Ignorance plagues blogs and message boards, websites get hyped off pretended wars, hip hop beefs, rumors, and sales of records, and whose song is the hottest, but they fail to get it, their history is skewed, confusin' facts with opinions, and can only see a distance of a couple of inches, the spectrum is wide, the scope is enormous, but it's hater this, paper that, slowin' the progress, and hip hop dudes need to get their priorities straight, stop worryin' about which performer is gay, for a bunch o' supposed heterosexuals, you're way too concerned about how other men are dressed in clothes, forget about the fashion and get back into the rappin', the craft has been lackin' the passion it had in decades past when it was about the artist and the skills they possessed, so start with that first and we can fill in the rest

(Chorus)
I'll rock a Public Enemy shirt like John Connor, fight for the future and use a mic to author the words that get scrawled on the manifesto, music's a revolution, so let's roll, these days everything is cliché, people do whatever just to be played by the DJ, I want songs that are quotable, that I can think about, not just jams with a dance that make my phone ring aloud

(Verse 4)
Because it pains me to see the mainstream cut off so much of what's out there like gangrene, so much talent, we gotta restore balance, countless amounts are left off the ballots, a stagnant culture, put on an alter, and sacrificed for the sake of the vultures, fight with a pencil, on instrumentals, music's a revolution, never let go