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Lyrics:
Transmission, Third World War, third round A decade of the weapon of sound above ground Ain't no shelter if you're looking for shade I lick shots at the brutal charade
As the polls close like a casket, our truth devours A silent play in the shadow of power A spectacle monopolized The camera's eyes on choice disguised
Was it cast for the mass who burn and toil? Or for the vultures who thirst for blood and oil? A spectacle monopolized They hold the reins, stole your eyes
The Fistagon's bullets and bombs Who stuff the banks, who staff the party ranks More for Gore or the son of a drug lord? None of the above, fuck it, cut the cord
Lights out, guerrilla radio Turn that shit up Lights out, guerrilla radio Turn that shit up Lights out, guerrilla radio Turn that shit up Lights out, guerrilla radio
Contact, I hijack the frequencies Blockin' the Beltway, move on DC Way past the days of bombin' MCs Sound off, Mumia Guan, be free
Who got 'em, yo, check the federal file All you pen devils know the trial was vile All you pigs trying to silence my style Off 'em all out that box, it's my radio dial
Lights out guerrilla radio Turn that shit up Lights out guerrilla radio Turn that shit up Lights out guerrilla radio Turn that shit up Lights out guerrilla radio Turn that shit up
It has to start somewhere It has to start sometime What better place than here? What better time than now?
All hell can't stop us now All hell can't stop us now All hell can't stop us now All hell can't stop us now All hell can't stop us now All hell can't stop us now
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