The Martyr

I’m content to die for my beliefs

So cut off my head and make me a Martyr

The people will always remember it

“No. They will forget”

A man who walks with God, can walk anywhere

Hence.. I fear nothing

The point of guerilla war, is not to succeed

It’s always been just to make the enemy bleed

Deprivin’ the soldiers of the peace of mind that they need

Bullets are hard to telegraph when they bob and they weave

The only way a Guerilla War can ever be over

Is when the occupation, can’t afford more soldiers

Until they have to draft the last of you into the service

And you refuse cause you don’t see the purpose

The only way to counter the insurgents that are well-equipped

Is to paint the people fighting for freedom as terrorists

Then find a faction lookin’ for foreign investments

You stall them with power and murder any objections

You can’t stop a revolution from breathin’

So to beat ‘em they offer people the illusion of freedom

But when you’re done dreamin’ and wake up, tortured for treason

Then you can see them, hidin’ behind the God they believe in

Deep in the trenches in the heart of a war

That’s the place a Martyr is born (Mothafucka it’s on)

During the night before the start of the dawn

That’s the place a Martyr is born (Mothafucka it’s on)

When the gunshots are rainin’ in the heart of a storm

That’s the place a Martyr is born (Mothafucka it’s on)

Guerilla war when the army is gone

That’s the place a Martyr is born (Mothafucka it’s on)

The purpose of life is a life with a purpose

So I’d rather die for a cause than live a life that is worthless

I don’t need the circus or the day of national observance

I need you to think for you and stop being a servant

Pawns only move a square in the game that they’re used in

And realise it too late, like the shootin’ of Huey Newton

Or Patrice Lumumba and Salvador Allende

Slaughter by the power hungry branches of their own gente

Ghandi wasn’t killed by Pakistani nationals

He was assassinated by a Hindu radical

And Che Guevara, rebel to a U.S. continent

Was sold to the C.I.A. by Bolivian communists

Wasn’t Yitzhak Rabin murdered by a Zionist

And Anwar Sadat a victim of the same violence?

Malcolm X was seen as a threat to the F.B.I.

But to blast ‘em they used Muslims from the N.O.I.

Even the 35th President of the Republic

Was murdered by factions of his own government

So now that it’s proven, that a soldier of Revolution

Or head of an empire, disguised in a Constitution

Can not escape the retribution or manipulation

Of the self-appointed rulers of the planets corporations

So Imma need every generation to put your hands up

Cause you can only get ‘em off your back when you stand up!

Deep in the trenches in the heart of a war

That’s the place a Martyr is born (Mothafucka it’s on)

During the night before the start of the dawn

That’s the place a Martyr is born (Mothafucka it’s on)

When the gunshots are rainin’ in the heart of a storm

That’s the place a Martyr is born (Mothafucka it’s on)

Guerilla war when the army is gone

That’s the place a Martyr is born (Mothafucka it’s on)