Rage Against the Machine - Guerrilla Radio
Transmission, third world war, third round,
A decade of the weapon of sound, above ground,
No shelter if youre looking for shade.
I lick shots at the brutal charade.
As the polls close like a casket on truth devoured,
Silent play in the shadow of power,
A spectacle monopolized,
The cameras eyes on choice disguised,
Was it cast for the mass who burn and toil?
Or for the vultures who thirst for blood and oil?
Yes, a spectacle monopolized,
They hold the reins, stole your eyes,
All the fistagons the bullets and bombs,
Who stuff the banks, who staff the party ranks,
More for Gore or the son of a drug lord
None of the above fuck it cut the cord.
Lights out, guerilla Radio, turn that shit up!
Lights out, guerilla Radio, turn that shit up!
Lights out, guerilla Radio, turn that shit up!
Lights out, guerilla Radio, turn that shit up!
Contact, I highjacked the frequencies.
Block in the beltway. Move on, DC.
Way past the days of bombin MCs.
Sound off, Mumia, go on be free.
Who got 'em. Yo, check the federal file.
All you pen devils know the trial was vile.
Army of pigs try to silence my style.
Off em all out that box its my radio dial.
Lights out, guerilla Radio, turn that shit up!
Lights out, guerilla Radio, turn that shit up!
Lights out, guerilla Radio, turn that shit up!
Lights out, guerilla Radio, turn that shit up!
It has to start somewhere, it has to start sometime.
What better place than here? What better time than now?
All hell cant stop us now. All hell cant stop us now.
All hell cant stop us now. All hell cant stop us now.
All hell cant stop us now. All hell cant stop us now.
All hell cant stop us now. All hell cant stop us now.
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