The Rebel Immortal Technique

Yea, yea, immortal technique (you know)...Harlem to South Africa
(this is how it goes) for the head warmers, y'know wut I mean..this is
For my peoples..insomniac I can't sleep (it's real son) Mic Check. ayo
Ayo (yea)

I'm a rebel that'll fire missiles at red dawn
But before I issue the order to send bombs
I want presidential money like execs at Enron
And gold digging porn chicks for me to spend on
But I'mma only pay for 1 night stay at the Ritz
I won't even get you a towel when I spray on your tits
I'm not a misogynist
I just like it when girls are massaging this
So pop shit
And Immaa smoke you and your bitch moms
I'm ambidextrous the microphone can switch palms
Immortal Technique psychotic nigga to spit calm
Misinterpreted by the media like Islam
I love the underground but not enough chicks in a thong
What the fuck how could beautiful women be wrong?
Tech load clips like they were hits from the bong
That was supposed to be the end of the song
But its not the freestyle got me stuck in the zone
I can't stop brainwashed commercial hip-hop the government plot
But I'mma shoot down the propaganda stuck in your brain
Like the military did to the fourth terrorist plane
That was ill but shut the fuck up and let me explain
What good is fame and flossing
When you stuck in a coffin?
And who the fuck you gonna run to when I make you an orphan?
I'm metamorphosing into something you thought that I could never be
Ghetto engineered sickness without a remedy
My heart pumps nitro-glycerin and Hennessey twisted chemistry
Cry blood and I bleed venom
Never subliminal clear with the message I'm sending
Bending the space-time continuum
Just to get to you
And blast you so hard it'll kill the person next to you
So in retrospect remember and dont fuckin forget
Yall are walking dead people y'all just dont know it yet!