Make It Hardcore (ft. Paris)

Ain't that a bitch, I heard somebody think

Rap is dead cause people runnin out of shit to say

So ridiculous and so absurd

I was almost at a loss for words, then I started to serve

Off the line of the enemy's mind

Back in 2005 droppin hammers without the time

Bring the ruckus from the booth to the hood

Motherfucker cause it ain't all good, now I wish they would

Get yo' vest on, we rain on babylon

The anti-fox news, anti-pop, original group

P and the enemy policin the beast

Until we rise it'll never be peace, I put that on Jesus

Back with vocals, no whack shit, no glory focus

No gimmick tracks, just hard truth and rough raps

Plus that gear that keep 'em fearin the crime

Makin sure brothers knowin the time, that's why it ain't no smilin

See the army as they're snatchin us up, yeah

At yo' high school, promisin what?

Better recognize the bling of the murder machine

That's why it's meaning in the words when we serve and ask you to think

Who the whores that embed with the swords

Who the ones pimp us all sellin death for murder dog

The imagery is dead-ly so what the fuck?

Interscope ah better hope we never knowin and bringin the ruckus

Like nas said, it's a coon parade, yeah

Bitch niggaz goin out all day

We pullin guns on uncle tom to bomb on viacom

It's on, long as needed we competin keep-keepin it strong

Ain't no comic in my view as long as they sell the black out

I grip my shit and blow your back out

We act out, cause you know we reppin the cause

Still a rebel never needin a pause, I check drawers for balls

Whatever it takes to make it hardcore!

(Ridin with a soldier, hard truth soldiers in the game)

Whatever it takes to make it hardcore!

(Keep the record rollin, ain't nobody colder when we play)

Whatever it takes to make it hardcore!

(Hard truth soldier, ridin with a soldier in the game)

Whatever it takes to make it hardcore!

(Keep the record rollin, can't nobody hold the spot we claim)

Soul survivors, now tell me who can bring it liver

It's p.e., still beatin the beast

In this game of latecomers, fake friends and flakes

And grown men actin like teenagers, we raisin the stakes

What'cha know about words I throw around

When I say it loud better know that I'm black and I'm proud

This is what I mean, an anti-nigger machine

Take a look around and see the way they keepin the realest from reachin

But I bet you never hear it again, naw

Clear channel never heat it again

It never fit into the corporate plan of attack

They genocidal practices only givin us "murder on wax"

Keep us terrified, music sterilized

Back the lies of the homicide and smile while

Life imitates what we make; they all

Makin money off the african's fall, that's why I'm callin out

Because a nation of millions is fearin the black

When we bumrush the show the enemy strike back

With mo' game than the music and our message attract

Revolverlution and rebirth'll keep the music in tact

Fuck that, bust back on they criminal ways

No compassion in they action for the son of a slave

Now the church used to hurt us, make somebody behave

Like this devil up in office really worship and pray

Like God speak to him and he does what he wants

But you know they steal the vote if anybody gets smart

The real sin is the dilemma when the people support

The death penalty but call abortion murder for sport

For the fake patri-ot, ain't no questions asked

'Specially, when the babies kill each other for gas

Known to blast on a menace that don't even exist

Set up puppet governments, for the rich to get richer

More money for them hoods, but the hood's in pain

When the schools close cause they say no money remain

Still undereducated, makin minimum wage

Got your wal*mart, makin new century slaves

Who's crazy? I can see, through the disguise

See, through the media's propaganda and lies

See a nation full of sheep still simple and blind

So we burn 'em with the sermon that's designed with a rhyme, we do it

Whatever it takes to make it hardcore! [x2]