Rage Against The Machine

[fox69]

"Clamp Down"

"Clamp Down"



Clamp down

What are we gonna do now?
Yeah, Taking off his turban, they said, is this man a Jew?
Cause they're working for the clampdown
They put up a poster saying we earn more than you!
When we're working for the clampdown
We will teach our twisted speech
To the young believers
We will train our blue-eyed men
To be young believers

The judge said five to ten-but I say double that again
I'm not working for the clamp down
No man born with a living soul
Can be working for the clampdown
Kick over the wall 'cause government's to fall
How can you refuse it?
Let fury have the hour, anger can be power
D'you know that you can use it?

The voices in your head are calling
Stop wasting your time boy there's nothing coming
Only a fool would think somebody could save you
The men at the factory are old and cunning
You don't owe nothing, so boy get runnin'
It's the best years of your life they want to steal

You grow up and you calm down
You're working for the clampdown
You start wearing the blue and brown
You're working for the clampdown
So you got someone to boss around
It makes you feel big now
You drift until you brutalize
Take your gun, kill now

In these days of evil presidentes
Working for the clampdown
But lately one or two has fully paid their due
For working for the clampdown
But ha! Gitalong! Gitalong!
waiting to be nothing now
waiting to be nothing now
c'mon
oww shit

 

[fox69]

"Clear The Lane"

"Clear The Lane"


Hey yo!
Let me be front
This is real and not a stunt
I'm comin' to the forefront
Shovel for the rapper and clear the lane
'Cos this jam is like a tomahawk chop
Teach ya I'll never stop droppin' topics
Vocal power?
(a)yes I got it
On central but their trying to clamp it down
Flag was waving the wrong way so I shot it...down!
Get down, and at the same time...
Come up...down!
This is a crime that shut us up
I don't give a fuck
'Cos the words and the thoughts still hit
And like I said
It's not a skit
Jump another hit
Yeah
Ya know I don't need a drum kit
Make 'em say awwww shit!
The rebellion is true and legit

Down! Get down!...and clear the lane
Down! Get down!...and clear the lane
Down! Get down!...and clear the land
Down! Get down!...yeah!

The rebel
You'll never disable
Defiance
With the cards upon the table
Pulling cards
Keep the governments in check
Yo!
I think we need a new deck
Never could trust a phillabusta'
The mic is like a fist and it'll bust ya
With words cold hittin' with the underground
And now you're checkin' out the new sound
Live hit
A live pop
Live rock
And ya don't stop
It goes on and on and on
Who's a threat?
C'mon, the war is on!

Down! Get down!...and clear the lane
Down! Get down!...and clear the lane
Down! Get down!...and clear the lane
Down! Get down!...and clear the lane

[guitar solo]

Start droppin'
Our words are never safe
Fighting myself
'Till I'm where I gotta be
I challenge, don't sweat it
Now don't you forget it
Check me? What? Wait
You better slow down!
Realize I can't confine my rhyme to a beat
I need cash so when I'm cool I'm never ever weak
Places are fluid and diluted and complete
Check me once, calm down and take a seat
Strip the chains the freedom's there but then it's gone!

Ugh...clear the lane
Ugh...clear the lane
Ugh...clear the lane
Ugh...clear the lane

Defiance
Rippin' up the sound set
Every time I'm grippin' the mic it is a sound threat
Resist against the suckers that bring the bass in
Timmy C
Bring that bass in!

Ugh...clear the lane
Ugh...clear the lane
Ugh...clear the lane
Ugh...clear the lane

 

[fox69]

"Darkness"

"Darkness"


Greed!
Causing innocent blood to flow
Entire culture, lost in the overthrow
They came to seize and take whatever they please
Then all they gave back was death and disease
My people were left with no choice but to decide
To conform to a system, responsible for genocide
Responsible for genocide
Responsible for genocide...

[Spoken:]
'AIDS is killing the entire African nation
And a vaccine is still supposedly under preparation
But these governments they don't mind the procrastination
They say "We'll kill them off, take their land and go there for vaction.'

My people's culture was strong, it was pure
And if not for that white greed
It would've endured
My people were left with no choice but to decide
To conform to a system
Their minds enslaved
Their souls encaged
I feel the rage
It's brutality can never be undone
But the sun is not yet set
The bass and drums and microphones a threat
That's when ya investigate the crimes from the inside
And see that they're responsible for genocide
Responsible for genocide
Responsible for genocide...

Ya cram ya culture down my throat
Say I'm inferior when I find that I choke
Ya fill my mind with a false sense of history
And then you wonder why I have no identity?
Well I'll strike a match and it'll catch and
Spread the insight we need
A tiny fire, burning bright
Shedding light on the darkness of greed

A yes yes y'all
And ya don't stop
Shedding light on the darkness of greed

A yes yes y'all
And ya don't stop
Shedding light on the darkness of greed.

Yeah!

 

[fox69]

"Down On The Street"

"Down On The Street"


Down on the street where the faces shine
Floatin' around i'm a real low mind
See a pretty thing in a wall
See a pretty thing in a wall

In a wall
In a wall
In a wall

Yeah deep in the night I'm lost in love
Yeah deep in the night I'm lost in love
A thousand eyes they look at you
A thousand eyes they, they look at you

Oh Come On! [x3]
Yeah Yeah Yeah
[repeat]

Oh Come On! [x3]
Yeah Yeah Yeah

Where faces shine
A real low mind
Faces Shine
A real low

Oh Come On! [x3]
Yeah Yeah Yeah

 

[fox69]

"Down Rodeo"

"Down Rodeo"



Yeah I'm rollin' down Rodeo wit a shotgun
These people ain't seen a brown skin man
Since their grandparents bought one

So now I'm rollin' down Rodeo wit a shotgun
These people ain't seen a brown skin man
Since their grandparents bought one

So now I'm rollin' down Rodeo wit a shotgun

Bangin' this bolo tight on this solo flight can't fight alone
Funk tha track my verbs fly like tha family stone
Tha pen devils set that stage for tha war at home
Locked wit out a wage ya standin' in tha drop zone
The clockers born starin' at an empty plate
Momma's torn hands cover her sunken face
We hungry but them belly full
The structure is set ya neva change it with a ballot pull
In tha ruins there's a network for tha toxic rock
School yard ta precinct, suburb ta project block
Bosses broke south for new flesh and a factory floor
The remains left chained to the powder war

Can't waste a day when the night brings a hearse
So make a move and plead the fifth 'cause ya can't plead the first
Can't waste a day when the night brings a hearse
So now I'm rollin' down Rodeo wit a shotgun
These people ain't seen a brown skin man
Since their grandparents bought one

Yes I'm rollin' down Rodeo wit a shotgun
These people ain't seen a brown skin man
Since their grandparents bought one

So now I'm rollin' down Rodeo wit a shotgun

Bare witness to tha sickest shot while suckas get romantic
They ain't gonna send us campin' like they did my man Fred Hampton
Still we lampin' still clockin' dirt for our sweat
A ballots dead so a bullet's what I get
A thousand years they had tha tools
We should be takin' 'em
Fuck tha G-ride I want the machines that are makin' em
Our target straight wit a room full of armed pawn to
Off tha kings out tha west side at dawn

Can't waste a day when the night brings a hearse
Make a move and plead the fifth 'cause ya can't plead the first
Can't waste a day when the night brings a hearse
So now I'm rollin' down Rodeo wit a shotgun
These people ain't seen a brown skin man
Since their grandparents bought one

Yeah I'm rollin' down Rodeo wit a shotgun
These people ain't seen a brown skin man
Since their grandparents bought one

Yeah I'm rollin' down Rodeo wit a shotgun

The rungs torn from the ladder can't reach the tumour
One god, one market, one truth, one consumer

Just a quiet peaceful dance!
Just a quiet peaceful dance!
Just a quiet peaceful dance!
Just a quiet peaceful dance!
Just a quiet peaceful dance for the things we'll never have
Just a quiet peaceful dance for the things we don't have

 

[fox69]

"Fistful Of Steel"

"Fistful Of Steel"



Huh!
Check it...uggh!
Silence
Something about silence makes me sick
'Cause silence can be violent
Sorta like a slit wrist

If the vibe was suicide
Then you would push da button
But if ya bowin' down
Then let me do the cuttin'

Some speak the sounds
But speak in silent voices
Like radio is silent
Though it fills the air with noises
Its transmissions bring submission
As ya mold to the unreal
And mad boy grips the microphone
Wit' a fistful of steel
Yeah...and mad mad boy grips the microphone
Wit' a fistful of steel

Wit' a fistful of steel
('Cause I know the power of the question)
Wit' a fistful of steel
Wit' a fistful of steel
(And I won't stop cause I know the power of the question)

It's time to flow like the fluid in ya veins
If ya will it, I will spill it
And ya out just as quick as ya came
Not a silent one
But a defiant one
Never a normal one
'Cause I'm the bastard son
With the visions of the move
Vocals not to soothe
But to ignite and put in flight
My sense of militance
Groovin', playin' this game called survival
The status, the elite, the enemy, the rival
The silent sheep slippin', riffin', trippin'
Give ya a glimpse of the reality I'm grippin'
Steppin' into the jam and I'm slammin' like Shaquille
Mad boy grips the microphone
Wit' a fistful of steel
Yeah...and mad boy grips the microphone
Wit' a fistful of steel

Wit' a fistful of steel
('Cause I know the power of the question)
Wit' a fistful of steel
Wit' a fistful of steel
(And I won't stop 'cause I know the power of the question)
Ahh shit

And I won't stop 'cause I know the power of the question

And if the vibe was suicide
Then you would push da button
But if ya bowin' down
Then let me do the cuttin`
Yeah!
Come on!

A .44 full of bullets
Face full of pale
Eyes full of empty
A stare full of nails
The roulette ball, rolls along on the wheel
A mind full of fire
And a fistful of steel

And if the vibe was suicide
Then you would push da button
But if ya bowin' down
Then let me do the cuttin'

Yeah! Wit' a fistful of steel!
Come on!
Uggh!
Wit' a fistful of steel!
Uggh!

 

[fox69]

"Freedom"

"Freedom"



Uggh!
Pull, pull
Wuh!
Come on!
Uggh!

Solo, I'm a soloist on a solo list
Al live, never on a floppy disk
Inka, inka, bottle of ink
Paintings of rebellion
Drawn up by the thoughts I think
Yeah!
Come on!

The militant poet in once again, check it
It's set up like a deck of cards
They're sending us to early graves
For all the diamonds
They'll use a pair of clubs to beat the spades
With poetry I paint the pictures that hit
More like the murals that fit
Don't turn away
Get in front of it

Brotha, did ya forget ya name?
Did ya lose it on the wall
Playin' tic-tac-toe?

Yo, check the diagonal
Three brothers gone
Come on
Doesn't that make it three in a row?
Anger is a gift

Come on!
Uggh!
Check that!
Uggh!
Come on
Yeah
Uggh!

Brotha, did ya forget ya name?
Did ya lose it on the wall
Playin' tic-tac-toe?

Yo, check the diagonal
Three million gone
Come on
Cause they're counting backwards to zero

Environment
The environment exceeding on the level
Of our unconciousness
For example
What does the billboard say
Come and play, come and play
Forget about the movement
Anger is a gift

Freedom, Freedom, yeah right

 

[fox69]

"Fuck The Police"

"Fuck The Police"



Good Evening,

We want to just quickly send a nice friendly message
to uh, Fraternal Order of Police in Philadelphia.

Here's something nice and friendly,
Here's something nice and friendly,
Here's something nice and friendly,
and it goes something like this.

Fuck tha police,
Comin straight from the underground.
Young nigga got it bad cuz I'm brown,
And not the other color so police think,
They have the authority to kill a minority.

Fuck that shit, cuz I ain't tha one,
For a punk mutha fucka with a badge and a gun,
To be beatin on, and throwin in jail.
We could go toe to toe in the middle of a cell.

Fuckin with me cuz I'm a teenager,
With a little bit of gold and a pager.
Searchin my car, lookin for the product.
Thinkin every nigga is sellin narcotics.

You'd rather see me in the pen,
Then me and Lorenzo chilling in the Benzo.
Beat tha police outta shape,
And when I'm finished, bring the yellow tape,
To mark off the scene of the slaughter.
No controller, bread and water.

A young nigga on a warpath,
And when I'm finished, it's gonna be a bloodbath,
Of cops, dyin in L. A.

Yo, I got somethin to say.
Fuck the police,
Comon! Off, What?
Fuck the police,
Yeah!
Comon!
Fuck tha police,
Yeah.

Fuck The police,
Comin straight from the underground.
Young nigga got it bad cuz I'm brown,
And not the other color so police think,
They have the authority to kill a minority.

Fuck that shit, cuz I ain't tha one,
For a punk mutha fucka with a badge and a gun,
To be beatin on, and throwin in jail.
We could go toe to toe in the middle of a cell.

Fuckin with me cuz I'm a teenager,
With a little bit of gold and a pager.
Searchin my car, lookin for the product.
Thinkin every nigga is sellin narcotics.

You'd rather see me in the pen,
Then me and Lorenzo chilling in the Benzo.
Beat tha police outta shape,
And when I'm finished, bring the yellow tape,
To mark off the scene of the slaughter.
No controller, bread and water.

I don't know if they fags or what,
Search a nigga down and grabbin in the nuts.
And on the other hand, without a gun they can't get none.
But don't let it be a black and a white one.
Cuz they slam ya down to the street top,
Black police showin out for the white cop.

Yeah, my brothas will swarm,
On any mutha fucka in a blue uniform.
Just cuz we in Washington D.C, punk police are afraid of me.
Hey!

Punk on a warpath,
And when I'm finished, it's gonna be a bloodbath,
Of cops, dyin in L. A.

Hey yo, We got somethin to say.
Fuck the police,
Comon, sing that shit,
Right now,
Comon!
Comon!
One more time,
Here we go, here we go,
Comon!
One More, We gotta do it, right now,
Yeah,
Check it out.

 

[fox69]

"Guerilla Radio"

"Guerilla Radio"



Transmission third world war third round
A decade of the weapon of sound above ground
No shelter if you're lookin' for shade
I lick shots at the brutal charade
As the polls close like a casket
On truth devoured
A Silent play in the shadow of power
A spectacle monopolized
The camera's eyes on choice disguised
Was it cast for the mass who burn and toil?
Or for the vultures who thirst for blood and oil?
Yes a spectacle monopolized
They hold the reins and stole your eyes
Or the fistagons
The bullets and bombs
Who stuff the banks
Who staff the party ranks
More for Gore or the son of a drug lord
None of the above fuck it cut the cord

Lights out
Guerrilla Radio Turn that shit up
Lights out
Guerrilla Radio Turn that shit up
Lights out
Guerrilla Radio Turn that shit up
Lights out
Guerrilla Radio

Contact I highjacked the frequencies
Blockin' the beltway
Move on D.C.
Way past the days of Bombin' M.C.'s
Sound off Mumia guan be free
Who gottem yo check the federal file
All you pen devils know the trial was vile
An army of pigs try to silence my style
Off 'em all out that box
It's my radio dial

Lights out
Guerrilla Radio Turn that shit up
Lights out
Guerrilla Radio Turn that shit up
Lights out
Guerrilla Radio Turn that shit up
Lights out
Guerrilla Radio Turn that shit up

It has to start somewhere It has to start sometime
What better place than here, what better time than now?

All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now

 

[fox69]

"Hadda Be Playing On The Jukebox"

"Hadda Be Playing On The Jukebox"



It had to be flashin' like the daily double
It had to be playin' on TV
It had to be loud mouthed on the comedy hour
It had to be announced over loud speakers

The CIA and the Mafia are in cahoots

It had to be said in old ladies' language
It had to be said in American headlines
Kennedy stretched and smiled and got double crossed by lowlife goons and agents
Rich bankers with criminal connections
Dope pushers in CIA working with dope pushers from Cuba working with a
big time syndicate from Tampa, Florida
And it had to be said with a big mouth

It had to be moaned over factory foghorns
It had to be chattered on car radio news broadcasts
It had to be screamed in the kitchen
It had to be yelled in the basement where uncles were fighting

It had to be howled on the streets by newsboys to bus conductors
It had to be foghorned into New York harbor
It had to echo onto hard hats
It had to turn up the volume in university ballrooms

It had to be written in library books, footnoted
It had to be in the headlines of the Times and Le Monde
It had to be barked on TV
It had to be heard in alleys through ballroom doors

It had to be played on wire services
It had to be bells ringing
Comedians stopped dead in the middle of a joke in Las Vegas

It had to be FBI chief J. Edgar Hoover and Frank Costello syndicate
mouthpiece meeting in Central Park, New York weekends,
reported Time magazine

It had to be the Mafia and the CIA together starting war on Cuba,
Bay of Pigs and poison assassination headlines

It had to be dope cops in the Mafia
Who sold all their heroin in America

It had to be the FBI and organized crime working together
in cahoots against the commies

It had to be ringing on multinational cash registers
A world-wide laundry for organized criminal money

It had to be the CIA and the Mafia and the FBI together
They were bigger than Nixon
And they were bigger than war

It had to be a large room full of murder
It had to be a mounted ass- a solid mass of rage
A red hot head
A scream in the back of the throat

It had to be in Kissinger's brain
It had to be in Rockefellers' mouth
It had to be central intelligence, the family, all of this, the agency Mafia
It had to be organized crime

One big set of gangs working together in cahoots

Hitmen
Murderers everywhere

The secret
The drunk
The brutal
The dirty and rich

On top of a slag heap of prisons
Industrial cancer
Plutonium smog
Garbage cities

Grandmas' bedsores, fathers' resentment

It had to be the rulers
They wanted law and order
And they got rich on wanting protection for the status quo

They wanted junkies
They wanted Attica
They wanted Kent State
They wanted war in Indochina

yeah

It had to be the CIA and the Mafia and the FBI

Multinational capitalists
Strong armed squads
Private detective agencies for the oh so very rich
And their armies and navies and their air force bombing planes

It had to be capitalism
The vortex of this rage
This competition
Man to man

The horses head in a capitalists' bed
The Cuban turf
It rumbles in hitmen
And gang wars across oceans

Bombing Cambodia settled the score when Soviet pilots
manned Egyptian fighter planes

Chiles' red democracy
Bumped off with White House pots and pans

A warning to Mediterranean governments

The secret police have been embraced for decades

The NKPD and CIA keep each other's secrets
The OGBU and DIA never hit their own
The KGB and the FBI are one mind

Brute force and full of money
Brute force, world-wide, and full of money
Brute force, world-wide, and full of money
Brute force, world-wide, and full of money
Brute force, world-wide, and full of money

It had to be rich and it had to be powerful
They had to murder in Indonesia 500000
They had to murder in Indochina 2000000
They had to murder in Czechoslovakia
They had to murder in Chile
They had to murder in Russia

And they had to murder in America.

Yeah!