If C.L.R. James could rap, it would sound like this. The Coup is from Oakland: they are hard, and if you’re rich they’ll kill you!
[Verse 1]
Presto, read the Communist Manifesto
Guerillas in the midst, a Guevara named Ernesto, so
(E-Roc: What a brother with a Afro know?)
Yell go and flow for the mack and we're the ho
So grow cause the lynching brothers might get hung
Rhetoric flowing from the tip of my Mao Tse Tung
Deficit (E.R.: money spent) catch the glint
(E.R.: of my 9 as they cut welfare 25%)
And I dissent, as I clench and raise my fist
(E.R.: We did away with that) so you could get with this
Here’s a twist cause we’ll overthrow like Kwame N’krumah
Spread around the wealth as if it were a vicious rumor
Pam cuts a record like a surgeon cuts a tumor from a brain
(E.R.: We’re all cooped up so feel the pain)
From 400 years of exploitation
Anesthesia provided by your local TV station
Patience is not a virtue (E.R.: I ain’t waiting)
Turn this shit over like Bush did a boatload of Haitians
[Verse 2]
How now brown cow, I’m down with the Mau Mau
Clown downtown tried to put us in the dog pound
Like H. Rap Brown with the situation
(E.R.: Won’t get no callouses) cause I’m spitting dialectical analysis
So how is this, we never had no funk
Until you found out that our joints are revolutionary, huh?
(E.R.: Chump!) bump you over like dominoes, rat
(E.R.: So free Geronimo Gi Jaga Pratt!)
Lyrics hear it fear it can’t get near it
Got a sample didn’t clear it
Point blank says "fuck 5-0!" That’s the spirit
Cheer it, spat out, the fat that I consumed
Knew that I was doomed since my date of birth
To be the wretched of the earth; never had a dream that was American
(E.R.: There go that lady chair again) despair again
(E.R.: But that ain’t nothing new)
Told the streets were paved with gold
Whoever paved that shit got minimum wage too!
Do you understand, the metaphoric phrase?
(E.R.: Gunned us, stunned us) exploited and they hung us
I’d like to take a moment to say, fuck Columbus!
(E.R.: Millions off my back) the black on black crisis is a myth
The crack that did the damage (E.R.: was the one from the whip)
The record skip, the record skip, the record skip *scratch*
The record skips, cause my voice is kinda scratchy
From yelling, "don't shoot!" when 5-0 comes to harass me
They never pass me, no one to go and tail bro
(E.R.: Trying to kill the movement with the new COINTELPRO)
Leaders they killed, if I said it, it would threaten em
They only see my back because I’m three steps ahead of em
We’re not falling in the slot you slated
(E.R.: We realize that our power’s nickel-plated)
Masses move as well as asses do, class is through
Our time is over, past it’s due
(E.R.: And you still wanna know) the origin of the flow
Oakland, California 94610
Dig It! was written by Boots Riley.
Dig It! was produced by Boots Riley.