Lyrics:

[Part I]
It’s been theatres, dusty barns and auditoriums
Poetry slams, older gods smokin’ opium
Testaments since destiny took the best of them
Zig zag among thoughts hooked to instruments
Tryn’ to pay visions to perfection
Soundwaves of slaves and criminal perceptions
To bad the accessories on tablets of memory
With mind states that lasted in treasuries
A magnet to felonies
We chop butter, ski masks, fatigues and box-cutters
Glas stutter throughout gutters ‘n’ hallways
Woman cry ‘cause their kids ’re stargazed
I won’t blame ‘em, since I’m doin’ the same thing
Goin’ through the same pain with thrusts to maintain
Many close calls labeled a myth, a ghostdog
Don’t know better so I stick to old odds, like a movie
With mad signals and uzis
Desperados who tote pistols with beauty
The hustle, rascals get their caked doubled
Sellin’ me a amount of pounds the jades smuggled
With helicopters, jet-ski and space shuttles
Now they been recruitin’ engaged couples
Camouflaged to play walls then chase trouble
Those who disagree will get their face scruffled

[Chorus]
Clap your hands (clap your hands now)
Clap your hands, the hands you clap
Clap your hands (clap your hands)
Clap your hands everybody!

[Part II]
Picture the attica blues, cinematical moods
My literature’s beyond mathematical jewels
They say Ali spits the most radical views
But I cock back the mack ‘n’ happen to snooze
Pacin’ crews put on their travellin shoes
They chose the right path of what many refuse
Actors and fools’re goin’ get dramatically bruised
Plus their whole entourage get slapped on the news
Brinin’ the ruckus I stomp on their miniature puppets
Watch Iman put on their finishin’ touches
While ya lost on the course pursue image of others
I represent the seeds ‘n’ underprivileged mothers, sisters & brothers
Frames visibly scarred, you go ahead
With your bad sufferin’ mystery god
Vicious bars, read this, murders i wrote for burglars to quote
I’m verbally dope ask anyone they will confirm
I’m mad deep on anything between a ballad or fast beat
Take your tongue out of those A&R ass-cheeks
Or you end up like your white caps tapes on trash-heaps

[Chorus]
Clap your hands (clap your hands now)
Clap your hands, the hands you clap
Clap your hands (clap your hands)
Clap your hands everybody!

[Part III]
Mastered the technique to speak over tracks we freakin’
Still catchin’ more flak than blacks and Puerto Ricans
It sorta deepens, my heartbeat weakens
We not reachin’ these kids. They ignore the preachin’
For more reasons, absorb the teachings
And leave your mind open to change like four seasons
The beats bang like whores out skeezin’
State of teh Art III is more than crowd pleasin’. WORD!
And now we got you fiendin’ for more
After the show began niggas ran like Gore
Sizzerhand for sure, spins ‘til his fingers is raw
He loves it when you bring us applause
So clap your hands ya’ll, get with the program
The mellow vibes reminiscent of a slow jam
It’s worldwide felt even by my old man
The magnetic attraction that you got open

[Chorus]
Clap your hands (clap your hands now)
Clap your hands, the hands you clap
Clap your hands (clap your hands)
Clap your hands everybody!