There’s four developing stages in the art of hip-hop,
And most of them developed from the snap, crackle and pop.
The first was the usage of an actual band,
The second was a drum machine made by a man,
The third was the human beatbox and percussion,
The fourth in line was samplin’ and the book of rhyme bustin’.
The government pimped 9/11 to go to Iraq,
And history repeats itself right on track. (How?)
First as a tragedy, and then the comedy begins. (Why?)
Cause it’s funny, motherfuckers don’t see it come around again.
The military ain’t there for the people’s protection,
They’re just there to protect an investment.
That’s why people get arrested, electrocuted, molested,
Connected streets are infested with those tired of protesting.
Traumatized children grown in guerrilla garrisons,
9/11 generations pale in comparison.
And you will learn a lesson repeated through history:
That no matter what you think, occupation is not victory.
Many have forgotten what we came here for,
Never knew or had a clue, so you’re on the floor.
Just growin’ not known’ about your past…
Now you’re lookin’ pretty stupid while you’re shakin’ your ass.