Stephen Marcussen - Calm Like a Bomb lyrics

[*whispers*] Feel the funk blast.. Feel the funk blast.. FEEL THE THE FUNK BLAST!! FEEL THE FUNK BLAST!!! A-FEEL THE FUNK BLAST!! Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, check it out, yo, yo, yo [Zack de la Rocha] I be walkin' god like a dog, my narrative, fearless My word war returns to burn like Baldwin home from Paris Like Steel from a furnace, I was born landless This is the native son, born of Zapata's guns Stroll through the shanties and the cities remains Same bodies buried hungry but with different last names These vultures rob everything leave nothing but chains Pick a point on the globe! Yes, the picture's the same There's a bank, there's a church, a myth and a hearse A mall and a loan, a child dead at birth There's a widow pig parrot, a rebel to tame A white-hooded judge, a syringe and a vein And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard [Hook] What you say, what you say, what you say, what? What you say, what you say, what you say, what? What you say, what you say, what you say, what? What you say, what you say, what you say, what? I'm calm like a bomb! (Ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite) I'm calm like a bomb! (Ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite) This ain't subliminal, feel the critical ma** approach horizon The pulse of the condemned, sound off America's demise The anti-myth rhythm rock shocker, yes I spit fire Hope lies in the smoldering rubble of empires Yes back through the shanties and the cities remains The same bodies buried hungry, but with different last names Them vultures robbin' everyone, leave nothing but chains Pick a point here at home, yes the picture's the same There's a field full of slaves, some corn and some debt There's a ditch full of bodies, the check for the rent There's a tap, the phone, the silence of stone The numb black screen that be feelin' like home And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard [Hook x2] (I'm Calm Like A Bomb!) There's a ma** without roofs, there's a prison to fill There's a country's soul that reads post no bills There's a strike and a line of cops outside of the mill There's a right to obey and there's a right to k** There's a ma** without roofs, there's a prison to fill There's a country's soul that reads post no bills There's a strike and a line of cops outside of the mill 'Cause there's a right to obey and there's the right to k**