Lyrics:

'Listen now Blind Baby what we wanna go for on this record

is not just a blues record - but we want a document.

An epic document depicting the struggle of da black people

against the white devil slavemasters.'



[Verse One]

Sittin at the pad watchin cops

Trippin off the pigs keepin niggaz off the block

But don't let a nigga get got out the ghetto

cause you know gettin caught out the ghetto

is a motherfuckin no-no

Cause you'll meet Mr. Boot, Mr. Feet

Mr. Billyclub and (who?) Mr. Concrete

Face down on the pavement

Keepin niggaz out of Crackerville, they do it and they love it

But vice verse the kicks

And put the Lench Mob crew, on the other end of the stick

Fee fie foe fum, the niggaz overcome

Everything is numb and it's filmed at eleven

It's like bustin caps at the bunny

You get a buck buck buck, buckshots in the tummy

They didn't have a fuckin clue (fuck you!)

Yeahh, it's time to get the ankle blues



Chorus: repeat 2X



'He is the epitome.. of anti-disestablishmentarism'

{*scratch* 'What's your latest hit brother?'



[Verse Two]

We caught the punk pluggin on our block

He looked like he's armed so I went for my glock

Call up the homies, look like we got one

Lay on the ground paleface, and that's when the fun begun

We beat him down like we were loco

(and said, 'Fuck John Lennon') - (AND HIS PUNK BITCH YOKO)

Steady takin charge of the neighborhood

We got a nine-eleven call on another fuckin peckerwood

We rolled up on him and he broke

He looked like he was tryin to sell some fuckin dope

Nope; we ain't goin out like that

That's when I let his ass have it with the gat

Shot him in his back, stopped him in his tracks

He will never sell dope to another fuckin black

(cause it's like that)

It's untraced without a clue (fuck you!)

Yeahh, his ass caught the ankle blues



Chorus



[Verse Three]

Nigga nigga nigga nigga, nigga damn fool

(MONKEY SEE, MONKEY DO!)

House made nigga's on his way with a fat pay

But the motherfuckers, paid for his doomsday

We laid in the cut for some days

Trippin off this nigga lookin like he's in a daze

What do whitey what do whitey really wanna know?

The outcome of a sellout, is an oreo - yo

We hung him by his neck til it snapped

That's when my homey woke me up out my nap (wake up 'loc)

Wakin back up to the signs of reality

Trippin off the shit that we watchin on TV

Them motherfuckers think I'm soft (PSYCH)

It's a sign of the Lench Mob settin it off

It's untraced without a clue

It's the niggaz, that's catchin the ankle blues!



Chorus



{*scratch* 'What's your latest hit brother?'

{*scratch* 'What's your latest hit brother?'