[Saul Williams]
I'm falling up flights of stairs, scraping myself from the sidewalk
Jumping from rivers to bridges, drowning in pure air
Hip hop is lying on the side of the road, half dead to itself
Blood scrawled over its mangled flesh, like jazz
Stuffed into an oversized record bag
Tuba lips swollen beyond recognition
Diamond studded teeth strewn like rice at Karma's wedding
The ring bearer bore bad news
Minister of information wrote the wrong proclamation
Now everyone's singing the wrong song
Dissonant chords find necks like nooses
That n***a kicked the chair from under my feet
Harlem shaking from a rope, but still on beat
"Damn, that loop is tight," that n***a found a way to sample the way, the truth, the light
Can't wait to play myself at the party tonight
N***as are gonna die!
Cop car swerves to the side of the road
Hip hop takes its last breath
The cop scrawls "vernacular manslaughter" onto a yellow pad
Then balls the paper into his hand, deciding he'd rather freestyle
You have the right to remain silent
You have the right to remain silent
And maybe you should have, maybe you should have, before your bullshit manifested

Yo, these thugs can't fuck with me, they're too thugged out
N***as think I'm bugged out, cause I ain't Sean John or Lugged out
This ain't hip hop no more, son, it's bigger than that
This ain't ghetto no more, black, it's bigger than black
So where my aliens at? Girl, we're all illegal
This system ain't for us, it's for rich people
And you ain't rich, dawg, you just got money
But you can't buy shit to not get hungry