Lyrics Immortal Technique

Immortal Technique

That's What It Is

Ok... let's go... talk to em'... holler

Don't you get tired of hearing niggas say that shit?... all the time?

Why can't you shut the fuck up and rhyme nigga?!

Yeah... yeah... used to run around getting my fight in the streets on

Back in the day before Harlem had a green zone

What good is a good education with no direction?

Like the right to vote with no one to vote for in an election

Like a gun with no bullets in the clip for protection

Like the crowd packed in the front without the midsection

Used to live robbing and stealing and being reckless

It took time for my mind to put the ghetto in perspective

I used to live in the back, of a holding van

Used to be offbeat, like the white girls' shoulder dance

I wrote rhymes a cappella, no beat, behind bars

Shed blood to make it, like the story behind scars

I used to be a battle champion, in the meanwhile

Before some of you little fuckers learned to freestyle

Prematurely senile, underground prima donnas

I was Oliver North during Iran Contra

Cause I, never snitched, and that's backed by evidence

I learned it by watching you, don't ever forget it bitch

Cause everybody knows how the government do

They never snitch on themselves, but they want you to snitch on YOU

Evolution from Australopithecus

Primitive commercial shit to hard-core lyricist

Your wax is useless

Rappers are dropping like Icarus

Technological revolution... nigga picture this

(motherfucka what?)

Yeah... I told you what it was, but this is what it is now

Lyrical bullets, packed to the top of the clip now

Treat it like a robbery, I'm shutting this shit down

Fellas put your hands up and the all the women strip down

That's not misogynist, you ostriches, cause I could just, apocalypse

Talk politics to the populace

Or challenge what the market is

With militant caucuses

That'll smash the spirit of Hip Hop out the sarcophagus

This is the curse of Tutankhamen, I bring the drama on

I'm sinful, I eat you, broad daylight on Ramadan

Hip Hop, reparations, now we taking back Delucci

Don't tell me you spent it on coke, like Danny Bonaduce

We're tired of being on the outside, looking in

Wondering what the fuck Hip Hop would've been

This is what it is, as opposed to what it used to be

And this is your corporate tax ID eulogy

Dominant speech is the new breed, that won't let you breath

I'll make you die for what I believe

So we got nothing in common

There ain't no comparison

You got beef with niggas, I got beef with Aryans

White power Nazi European Americans

Rapid Poverty pimps, and fake vegetarians

The resurrection, ripping a ball through the record (wrecking?) section

Flight connection to the gentry board of all guerrilla lessons

Fuck a middle man distributor, I got a choice now

This ain't Volume 1., I got a grown man's voice now

Toured the country four times over, I'm older and wiser

Poisonous words, you'll find strychnine in my saliva

(motherfucka what?... Bring it to 'em raw)

I told you what it was, but this is what it is now

50 caliber bullets, I don't need a clip now

Fuck your private jet nigga we shooting the shit down

Bomb wall street and make the stock market dip down

I told you what it was, but this is what it is now

you the shit nigga, I don't care about shit now

I play the role of Abraham, idols get ripped down

Melt the ice caps, and make all of this shit brown

(No one out there can fuck with me)

(motherfucka what?)

(I speak that real shit)

(to smash the airwaves)

(I don't want to tell you motherfuckers again)