Lyrics:

Hey...!
Hey...!
Hey...!
Hey...!

We are the creamy spies
The cream always rises up
We are God's sequel
The Man's game has peaked
We are Sun, Moon, and Star
We all got pieces
It's Nation Time, Nation Time
Ready to put in work
We got mad peoples
Your double dealin' is scoped
Your tongue is forked, we know
We ghetto level
Hey –
We can make life better
Together – not divided
Universal ori-gi-nal, creamy
The Man ain't shit
What's happenin'?

Aight, check it –
In the year of '89, I stole back my Black mind
Found peace, now from the East, I shine
One time blind, I refined, then over time, 
I realized the creamy spy gots to climb
Find the spot in this land of Uncle Sam
Focus my thoughts and be that true Black man that I am
I stands in the face of oppression
With my sisters and my brothers, no slippin', no half steppin'(Together!)
The Five Percent nation is my representation
I wear Timberlands, studyin' Timbuktu
Won't rest until they free Brother Mumia-Abu
Now can you feel it? (Huh)
Nothing can save ya
For this is the season of our self-saviour
Like Che Guevara, this young urban guerilla
Sparks a revolution – Black tactics, whatever

We see what's happenin'
We might start bustin'
We'll spell it out for you
If you talk it, live it
Let's get creamy
Really creamy
I'm down
With pleasure

(Wussup... wussup...) Wussup – 
I cannot answer for my damages, due to layin' soul type sentences
I prepare time for, and sisters for passage in a tactic front style
Warfare for the projects, I live
A series of niggas atop a target
Watch out, our preset – we swift to like strike
In an aerial form, we close-in
Select territorial aim, let's be out
On an onslaught, we plague you – cannot get took (Suckers)
Even for the suckers we light up, it's good lookin' out (No joking)
Eager to get taken out, I'd die fightin' (Why?)
You subtract the devils, they get smoked

Hey...! Funk-ay
Hey...! Funk-ay
Hey...! Funk-ay
Hey...! Funk-ay

We're people, Black people
Steal your mind back
Don't die in their wilderness – fuck that
For C and B dogs in L.A., 
New York project hallways, 
Let's point our heaters the other way – creamy

Just like that, Asiya was the sun of all man
Type blow, guerilla fighter super 'fro
Bust it – the beast may wanna war in the summer
Thus, I rock my camouflage, playin' corners
Cameras sense kites, while they pimp Hip-Hop
I strategize my joints – you know it don't stop
And it don't pop, son, it's p'ject-bound, the ghetto
Pour beats in concrete, when I'm creamy with my stiletto
Got sixteen for the imperial fascists
Bomb for each brothers and honeys, we 'bouts to set it
Domino theory, 'cause they stalled our flow
Collectin' pitchforks 'til they free Geronimo
While you blaze up –
'Right on,' I say, my fist raised up
While you bent, I represent – what?
(Uptown, downtown, across – wherever)
Uptown, downtown, across – like wherever
Meet me in the Crook' and we could piece it all together

Hey... – super funky
Hey... – super Black and superb
Hey... – super-super fine
Hey... – super funky