I’m a African ​dead prez

[Intro: stic.man & (Scratches)]
Yo, turn this motherfucking shit up! Hahaha. (Uh) What?
Uhuru ("Africa's in the house")
Coupe tete boule kay, Rwanda, Nigeria ("Africa's in the house")
My nigga Dedan, Abu ("Africa's in the house, they get petrified")

[Verse 1: stic.man]
Nigga, the red is for the blood in my arm, the black is for
The gun in my palm and the green is for the traum
That grows natural like locks on Africans
Holding the smoke from the herb in my abdomen
Camouflage fatigues and dashikis, somewhere
In between N.W.A and P.E
I'm black like Steve Biko, raised in the ghetto by the people
Fuck the police (“Fuck the Police”)—you know how we do

[Verse 2: M-1]
Ayo, my life is like Roots: it's a true story
It's too gory for them televised fables on cable
I'm a runaway slave watching the North Star
Shackles on my forearm, running with a gun in my palm
I'm a African, never was a African-American
Blacker than black, I take it back to my origin
Same skin hated by the Klansmen
Big nose and lips, big hips and butts dancing, what!