Immortal Technique - Industrial Revolution lyrics
[Immortal Technique - Industrial Revolution lyrics]
The day of the geechee is gone boy
And you goin' with it yeah, nigga
Immortal Technique metaphysics
The bling-bling era was cute but
It's about to be done
I leave you full of clips like
The Moon blocking the Sun
My metaphors are dirty like herpes
But harder to catch
Like an escape tunnel in prison
I started from scratch
And now these parasites want a
Percent of my ASCAP
Trying to control perspective like
An acid flashback but here's a quotable for
Every single record exec
"Get your fucking hands out my pocket
Nigga!" like Malcolm X
But this ain’t a movie
I'm not a fan or a groupie and I'm not
The type of cat you can afford
To miss if you shoot me
Curse the Heavens and laugh when
The sky electrocutes me
Immortal Technique stuck in your thoughts
Darkening dreams
No one's as good as me they
Just got better marketing schemes
I'll lead you to your own
Destruction like sparking a fiend
'Cause you got jealousy in
Your voice like Starscream
And that's the primary reason that
I hate y'all faggots
I've been nice since niggas got
Killed over 8 ball jackets
And Reebok Pumps that didn't do
Shit for the sneaker
I'm a heatseaker with features that'll
Reach through the speaker
And murder counter-revolutionaries personally
Break a thermometer and force
Feed his kids mercury
A&R's tried jerking me
Thinking they call shots
Offered me a deal and a
Blanket full of smallpox
You're all getting shot
You little fucking treacherous bitches!
This is the business
And y'all ain’t getting nothing for free
And if you devils play broke
Then I'm taking your company
You could call it reparations or restitution
Lock and load, nigga industrial revolution
I want fifty-three million dollars
For my calloused hands
Like the Bush administration gave
To the Taliban
And fuck packing grams, nigga
Learn to speak and behave!
You want to spend twenty years
As a government slave?
Two million people in prison
Keep the government paid
Stuck in a six-by-eight cell
Alive in the grave
I was made by revolution to
Speak to the masses deep in the club
Toast the truth reach for your glasses
I'll burn an orphanage just to
Bring heat to you bastards
Innocent deep in a casket Colombian fashion
Intoxicated off the flow like thug's passion
You motherfuckers will never get
Me to stop blasting
You're better off asking Ariel
Sharon for compassion
You're better off begging for twenty
Points from a label
You're better off battling cancer
Under telephone cables
Technique chemically unstable, set to explode
Foretold by the dead sea
Scrolls written in code
So if your message ain’t shit
Fuck the records you sold!
'Cause if you go platinum
It's got nothing to do with luck
It just means that a million
People are stupid as fuck
Stuck in the underground
A general that rose to the limit
Without distribution managers, a deal
Or a gimmick
Revolutionary Volume 2 murder the critics
And leave your fucking body rotting
For the roaches and crickets
This is the business
And y'all ain’t getting nothing for free
And if you devils play broke
Then I'm taking your company
You could call it reparations or restitution
Lock and load, nigga industrial revolution
And you goin' with it yeah, nigga
Immortal Technique metaphysics
The bling-bling era was cute but
It's about to be done
I leave you full of clips like
The Moon blocking the Sun
My metaphors are dirty like herpes
But harder to catch
Like an escape tunnel in prison
I started from scratch
And now these parasites want a
Percent of my ASCAP
Trying to control perspective like
An acid flashback but here's a quotable for
Every single record exec
"Get your fucking hands out my pocket
Nigga!" like Malcolm X
But this ain’t a movie
I'm not a fan or a groupie and I'm not
The type of cat you can afford
To miss if you shoot me
Curse the Heavens and laugh when
The sky electrocutes me
Immortal Technique stuck in your thoughts
Darkening dreams
No one's as good as me they
Just got better marketing schemes
I'll lead you to your own
Destruction like sparking a fiend
'Cause you got jealousy in
Your voice like Starscream
And that's the primary reason that
I hate y'all faggots
I've been nice since niggas got
Killed over 8 ball jackets
And Reebok Pumps that didn't do
Shit for the sneaker
I'm a heatseaker with features that'll
Reach through the speaker
And murder counter-revolutionaries personally
Break a thermometer and force
Feed his kids mercury
A&R's tried jerking me
Thinking they call shots
Offered me a deal and a
Blanket full of smallpox
You're all getting shot
You little fucking treacherous bitches!
This is the business
And y'all ain’t getting nothing for free
And if you devils play broke
Then I'm taking your company
You could call it reparations or restitution
Lock and load, nigga industrial revolution
I want fifty-three million dollars
For my calloused hands
Like the Bush administration gave
To the Taliban
And fuck packing grams, nigga
Learn to speak and behave!
You want to spend twenty years
As a government slave?
Two million people in prison
Keep the government paid
Stuck in a six-by-eight cell
Alive in the grave
I was made by revolution to
Speak to the masses deep in the club
Toast the truth reach for your glasses
I'll burn an orphanage just to
Bring heat to you bastards
Innocent deep in a casket Colombian fashion
Intoxicated off the flow like thug's passion
You motherfuckers will never get
Me to stop blasting
You're better off asking Ariel
Sharon for compassion
You're better off begging for twenty
Points from a label
You're better off battling cancer
Under telephone cables
Technique chemically unstable, set to explode
Foretold by the dead sea
Scrolls written in code
So if your message ain’t shit
Fuck the records you sold!
'Cause if you go platinum
It's got nothing to do with luck
It just means that a million
People are stupid as fuck
Stuck in the underground
A general that rose to the limit
Without distribution managers, a deal
Or a gimmick
Revolutionary Volume 2 murder the critics
And leave your fucking body rotting
For the roaches and crickets
This is the business
And y'all ain’t getting nothing for free
And if you devils play broke
Then I'm taking your company
You could call it reparations or restitution
Lock and load, nigga industrial revolution