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Now that Bin Laden dead, can we get our civil liberties back?
That George Bush stole with the Patriot Act?
Ras Kass, “Hello Iraq (Bin Laden Post Mortem)”, Endangered Lyricist, Vol 3, 2011
If you are not performing fellatio for radio rotation,
What’s the ratio for radio play at your station?
If you’re not paying to play, the record is dead.
Puts a whole new spin on ‘Radio-head’
Pharaohe Monch, “Hitman,” W.A.R. (We Are Renegades), 2011
I’d rather be dead than watch wack shit.
Color me gone, fill in the dirt, tell ‘em i kicked
10 buckets…
Jean Grae, “R.I.P.,” Cake or Death, 2011
The military ain’t there for the people’s protection,
They’re just there to protect an investment.
That’s why people get arrested, electrocuted, molested,
Connected streets are infested with those tired of protesting.
Traumatized children grown in guerrilla garrisons,
9/11 generations pale in comparison.
And you will learn a lesson repeated through history:
That no matter what you think, occupation is not victory.
Immortal Technique, “Angels & Demons,” The Martyr, 2011. More from Immortal Technique >
They say ‘Love Jesus’ and ‘Listen to your pastor,’
But Jesus told the truth, and the pastor’s a lying bastard.
All he talk about is economic elevation,
And all Jesus talked about was soul salvation.
Jesus sat with the sick and he walked with the poor,
If He gave blood for our sins, why we giving more?
I got some Gangster Disciples at church with me tonight,
With five dollars worth of gas, and a matchbook to light.
Killer Mike, “Burn,” Pl3dge, 2011. More serious lyrics from Mike Bigga >
Cloned chickens walking around without heads,
The food is contaminated, the water got lead in it.
Population control, make the babies sick,
All these RFID chips, RU-486…
This is a war against consciousness,
Controlling your soul, sort of a psychological dictatorship.
And we are on the front lines,
Guilty as charged if intellect is a crime.
Pharoahe Monch, “W.A.R.,” W.A.R. (We Are Renegades), 2011
Nigga hit me on the Sidekick sayin’ he gon’ shoot me:
Soundin’ like a real groupie.
He a bitch with a heater like Lara Croft,
He gonna get his ass wet like Noah’s Ark.
Got the choppa won’t hesitate to squeeze,
Get his ass cut like a Whopper with Cheese.
Danny Brown, “LOL,” from Black Milk and Danny Brown’s Black and Brown, 2011
I just need the junkies and the liars and the thieves,
I need the pimps, prostitutes and pushers out in the streets.
That’s where I’m seeking God, cause that’s where He found me.
Killer Mike, “God in the Building 2,” PL3DGE, 2011
I don’t see the world as you see it.
I see it as a game, and my aim is to complete it.
What you live for is what you die for:
To make a little name, grab some fame and the high score.
Murs, “Ice Cream Mountain,” from McKenzie Eddy’s Slow Your Horse Down, Son, 2011