Zack de la Rocha

Drop it
Hey, uh

Try to crack and somehow react
Vocal snaps attract
I'm trying to rap
Those who try to subdue the truth
Lose their condition
Were labelled inactive

Being 91
The twentieth century
Brooklyn is a magnum in a bottle of kerosine
Flame ignites into the black sending fright
Tortured and weak minds
And words and insight

Back to the explosion on the stage
Guns fear
Presence of war creates a dangerous atmosphere
Using my brain a certain power is obtained
Using the strength I've gained
A struggle remains, but I

Choose another tune to uplift
Yeah, you know my anger is a gift
A gift to expect the test we all must face
Hah, out my face

Release the reason
Allow the pain
The actors change
But the play's the same

In the narrows
In the narrows
In the narrows

Some are the holders of power
But will start a galactic shower
Turn to my brother, little power, structure itself
Hate only motivates and creates more hate

State to state
I set it straight and investigate
Dull fate
While teachers taught me lessons

At the oppression I react with aggression
Yo, my section after section
No need for repressing
Just take the mic and a rap another session

No need for guessing
And that shit that you're stressin'

Release the reason
Align the pain
The actors change
But the play's the same

Release the reason
Align the pain
The actors change
But the play's the same



Divine are stepping up and proving to suckas
They cannot dumben up their style
And I do it with a smile

When I put punks on trial, taking 'em back again
The name of the comprehender

The style I drop is going on and on
To the punks who recognize the style
And realize that I'm not no Punk Kid
Just stepping up for the mic hit


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