OCCUPIED TUCSON CITIZEN
Beyond the booty shakin’ and child murderin’ glorification
grows strong, fresh talent, slingin’ edifying communication
Mainstream media don’t play that, though,
neither mass protests poppin’ off all parts of the planet, yo
But it’s playin’ all right, it’s playin’ all night, ‘til the wheels fall off and burn, it’s playin’.
Listen to the styling of some of this stuff.
Rooted in oppression and enlightenment,
like reggae’s lyrical lullibies’ lurin’ you to their groove
but with human pipes pulling percussive punch and human horns moving melodies
of word crafted to evoke mind, body, soul and collective into harmonies
hammerin’ and howlin’ from the depths of creation itself, it’s playing, listen.
The worm has turned, no hatin’.
Change is upon us and hip hop has center stage every place and all at once.
The artist knows she sows shapes. They manifest in the mind’s eye
and in the midst of the moving masses.
The artist knows she courts the Creator, calling forth the new day
whilst etching on the foundation for generations yet to come, she knows.
I beg you, baby, please let not our posterity be preserved only as the booty shakin,’
the poppin’ out the cork of the new bottle of sexual expression on the dance floor,
but fuse it with the higher harmonies of the new crew,
slingin’ the word of truth, ringin’ revolution like a bell
and let the bubbly burst forth so we can get this party jumpin’ off in here right now, wha.