Zack de la Rocha
Fatlip West Coast Mix
[Aceyalone]
Freedom is that cold road seldom traveled, by the multitude
We need to depict to describe it, so that we can cultivate this food
Motivate a few of you fools, regenerate the mood
Free ourselves from mental bondage, free ourselves from Family Feuds
Now follow me through this prophecy, building our colonies
Where our pillars and columns be, bigger than the coliseum
I call 'em like I see 'em, the devil does a devil's dance
They wanna murder Mumia, take action, it's the only chance

[Tre Hardson]
Now they will flee and guard, just to feel the power
Not to justify, that of you and I
Holdin' daggers up and lettin' you decide
After passin' information that's falsified
Stand behind a lie, what does it cost to die?
What does it cost to live? Why do they specify?
These terms of why, when they ain't the most high
They fear they will kill, but the soul will never die

[Zack de la Rocha]
You see the capital thugs got nervous
Cause he refused to be their servant
Cause he spit truth that shook heads and burn like black churches
Prose and verses, filled with a million black hearses
Watch, see the decision of Dred Scott as it reverses
So as long as their rope is tight around Mumia's neck
Let there be no rich white life we bound to respect
Cause and effect, can you smell the smoke in the breeze?
My Panther, my brother, we are at war until you're free
[Jean Grae]
I plan to move my motherfuckers to the frontline, ready with guns cockin'
We storm prisons, get the wards rockin'
Snipe all the F.B.I. and cops clockin'
Philly officials, bodies droppin'
Offends the eighty-five, bombin'
Eye for an eye, we'll hang 'em by the Capitol Steps
Snap their necks, snatch their vests, equip my children with techs
Free from the protected Feds, called it murder, legal execution shit
Free the righteous or face the bloody revolutionists song

[Divine Styler]
In the holy month of Ramadan, doin' time, war and degrees
Within the means of God's speed, feel the supreme penalties
Black non-fiction, remains the weapon of choice
Reject the illusion of justice and white hears the black voice
The passion behind the file, the flesh beyond the bars
Through the spirit of under force, who's deaf and who's cost?
Break the black man down in front of the black fam and all
Guilty as you all, free Mumia Abu-Jamal

[P.E.A.C.E.]
This is a P.S.A. to the P.S.C. and the P.P.D
Mumia Abu-Jamal must be set free
How would y'all like it if we took it to the streets
In a discrete fashion? Still smashin', underground arsenal of lyricists
Live from death row
We want the voices of the voices fully clothed and ready to go
And if not, you'll witness the largest uprisin' you've even seen befo'
April twenty-fo', nineteen fifty-fo'