Look at you, knockin' at my door What he'd do he hasn't done before? It's the same old sorry song and dance You're always good for one more chance,
cause Reggie Noble's known like burglary and cause surgery for emergency Hey, if it take a million niggaz to stop it just like Chuck did I get
to nap, because my afro is like Shaft Puffy, fade it quite lovely and to snuff me Get your gang, 'cause I'm fightin' with more power than Chuck D Chuck
Yo, check this out, this is Chuck D, Public Enemy number one Check it out, my man bringing the noise that's right this new year My man Benny Benassi guaranteed
People get ready for the heartbeat props (We're giving heartbeat props) Everybody get ready for the heartbeat props (We're giving heartbeat props) We
pillow cases full of books and a atlas Can you understand this or has a G lost touch Walkin' in my con chucks, livin' out long months [Repeat Chorus] [
impact of it takes a nation Of millions to hold us back You bet theres blood on them bomb squad tracks Black steel , baseheads, party for your right to fight Prophets
Yo chuck we got runnin' in mixes and da headphones Ha, ah, ha, ha, ha Wicked Ha, ha, 1, 2, 3 and I come with the wicked Style and you know that I'm from
time with a prophet priest I pull out boxes and brooms And I gush like a groom For it's here I commune with A prophet, priest and king If I indeed am
hit him and hit him some more Then I told that fucking boy Shouldn't have ran his mouth about of the motherfucking Prophet Boys 'Cause the Prophet Boys
twenty dollars get you higher than an astronaut I keep a Glock in my state prop jeans Floating on cloud nine goin' off cold dean I chuck a deuce to
unquestioningly consumes vapid, Superficial entertainment. Phrase about my gun, rhyme about my loot Phrase about these haters I sometimes have to shoot Rhyme about my clothes, props
paradigm with this microphone. I was chilling in my '88 south on 101, with the woofer in the back bumping P.E. number one. Free-styling in a genre I didn't create, props to Melle Mel, Chuck
snap, you know this track is fly So get crunked up and don't ask why Post rap, post punk, post Kurt Cobain Post Kool Moe Dee post House of Pain Chuck
culture that unquestioningly consumes Vapid, superficial entertainment Phrase about my gun, rhyme about my loot Phrase about these haters, I sometimes have to shoot To rhyme about my clothes, props
Stayin' so swift, buckin' this shit Beat made by Swizz, so you niggas can't trip 'cuz (Everywhere I go) Niggas give me props, bitches give me cock Hustlers
think of blackness and bee-bop, Billy Holiday, Chuck Dee and Scott La Rock! City street blocks, outlined bodies with chalk, one-times swooping up like hawks Graff crews bailing burners getting props