[Verse 1: Eldon Somers]
I brushed my teeth, but I left a little whiskey on my breath for you
Don't panic 'til they tell you to, known as the uppity class coons
Strap on your boots and grab the iron cast broom
'Cause somebody has to sweep the floor in this dark room
The bully van smelled like kush
This all starts to make more sense when sirens go off
Drop me off, partin' words were "have a better one"
Roll out the rule like sickle and hammer
His crew's bad still, but my crew's badder
The women are opaque, the men are bathin' apes
So who's a good chimp
I was holding on to all these things like relics
The museum and it's plinths are the mantle pieces
In the homes where colonial officers did their stints
The academics place their knowledge in the intellectual museum that hoards information as opposed to usin' it for action
Impassive
A black child, a wild child and a white child
I just saw steppin' past a stoop
All wearin' matchin' black track suits in denial of the loot
But, Wu-Tang is for the children
Rice and peas for the billions
Breathe in the past, breathe out the future
No true social analysis has a conclusion
Taught them wise
Seven sisters on a Friday night all waterside
To behold, to be held, to beheld upon
Was somethin' we never gelled upon
What went wrong, only you'd know
[Verse 2: R.A.P. Ferreira]
Yes, this is, this is the ignoble peon poet speaking
Dialing in directly to you from the blue satellite
Black Orpheus, the ruby yacht
It won't let me linger, it won't let me, nah
It won't let me linger, it won't let me
It won't let me linger, it won't let me
Rowdy and docile, mouthy apostle
Ouchie, I'm hostile, itchy clairvoyant
Chorus of voices, tremolo pedal for extra points
It's the nuance, be the nuisance
Squeezin' the self for potent juices
Movements fluid, druid's in tune with it
But, not at the steering wheel
Hearing heels, listening correctly can cause introspecting
It won't let me linger, it won't let me
It won't let me linger, it won't let me
Tempo be a limiting use of time space
But this is not a race, so icy
Silver on black gold skin, pop so nicely
Hi, I'm yellow, oblivious idiots, I'd like to dance with you

[Bridge: Eldon Somers]
There are poets, with little to no merit
Enjoying the fruits of labor with no calluses on tips
Come now, purse those lips and form the basis for our enjoyment
[Outro]
Well let me get started, uh. We ran into difficult right away with the people that control the media in the United States. That is the large newspapers, the radio stations, and the record companies. Uh, we were all poets and publishers of magazines. I was publishing uh, for many years, a radical, literary quarterly in the United States and didn't run into any appreciable trouble. However, when we got into music, which goes out to all the people, as opposed to the elite, that you get with a literary magazine. When we went out to large audiences, we got into trouble