Not Yet Free

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The Coup

The Coup is a political hip hop group based in Oakland, California. It formed as a three-member group in 1990 with emcees Raymond "Boots" Riley and E-Roc along with DJ Pam the Funkstress. E-Roc left on amicable terms after the group's second album but appears on the track "Breathing Apparatus" on The Coup's third album, Steal This Album. With the release of that album in 1998, The Coup began incorporating the live instrumentation from their recordings into their live show. The Coup has, since that time, been a full band. more »

Year:

1993

6:15

249 Views

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"Blacks are too fuckin broke to be republicans"

In this land I can't stand or sit 
and not get shit thrown up in my face 
A brotha never gets his props 
I'm doin bellyflops at the department of waste 
And everyday I pulls a front so nobody pulls my card 
I got a mirror in my pocket and I practice lookin hard 
I'm lookin behind me beside me ahead of me 
There'll be no feet makin tracks here instead of me 
But I can't disregard just what the news says to me 
I'm twenty-one, so I've reached my life expectancy 
At any minute I could be in some shit that kills my skinny ass 
From motherfuckers doin the sellout strut or probably Oakland task 
My relationship with OPD has been like one big diss 
Long arm of the law, grips my dick so tight it's hard to even piss 
So I forgot ain't even got a pot to do it in 
Up at the church they're tellin me it's because I live in sin 
So I grin, but nevertheless my mind won't dwell 
I must be trippin cause I thought I was livin in hell 
Capitalism is like a spider, the web is getting tighter 
I'm struggling like a fighter, just to bust loose 
It's like a noose asyphyxiation sets in 
Just when I think I'm free it seems to me the spider steps in 
This web is made of money made of greed made of me 
Of what I have become in a parasite economy 

In the winter there's a splinter with the smell of the rain 
And the scent of the street, but all I smell is the pain 
Of a brotha who's a hustler and he's stuck to the grind 
Of a sista who's a hooker gotta sell her behind 
Desperation makes her brotha get a little more bold 
The circumstance gets deeper when it's damp and it's cold 
So I spend my time thinking bout the ultimate gank 
Can I get my Coup together pull a move on the bank? 
I be the picture perfect hustler for the piece of the pie 
But my daddy always taught me just to reach for the sky 
Now my dream and aspirations go from single to hoe 
As I realize there's a million motherfuckers in the cold 
No need to be told, cause when you got a million po' people 
Gettin ganked, by a few that are rich and evil 
But it's illegal, to wonder how they livin fat 
(One two three) everybody get a gat 

Ahhhhhh yeah! 
Niggaz, thugs, dope dealers and pimps 
Basketball players, rap stars, and simps 
That's what little black boys... are made of 
Sluts, hoes, and press the naps around your beck 
Broads pop that coochie, bitches stay in check 
That's what little black girls... are made of 
But if we're made of that who made us 
and what can we do to change us 
The oppressor tries to tame us 
here's a FOOT for his anus! 
Well since the days when I was shittin in diapers 
It was evident the President didn't like us 
Assassination attempts I'd root for the snipers 
My teacher told me that I didn't know what right was 
Well she was wrong cause I knew what a right was 
And a left and an uppercut, too 
I had a hunch a sucker punch is what my people got 
That's why I was constantly red, black, and blue  

Boots, Boots, Boots, you want to throw some shots out? 
Ay man I ain't done with my lyrics yet, that's not cool 
Ay, but ain't this a freestyle? 
Naw, this is not yet freestyle cause we not yet free 
Hey we gonna throw some shots out anyway 

Awright fuckit, who y'all want to throw some shots out to? 
Uhh whassup with that uhh Bill Clinton and Al Gore? 
Aight, they the new masters up in the White House and everything 
Let's throw some shots out 
Yeah 

Awright, what about Bush? He on the way out and everything 
but I think we need a goodbye for his ass 

Uh-huh 
See-ya! 
Awright, what about Ross Perot and the good ol boys? 

The who? 
You know who they are, awright 

Ay what about Pete Wilson? (Whassup) That Pete Wilson motherfucker 
Yeah whassup wit him? 
Awright 

Got him! 
Awright, ay, the L.A.P.D.,
The O.P.D., The Richmond P.D., Detroit P.D., ay 
Ay f*ck it, f*ck it, the whole, the whole motherfuckin P.D. 
Awright, load up 
Yeah, here's a loaded club for yo' ass 
Awright, cool -- ay, what about these skinheads? 
Ay check it out 
I can't stand dem fools 
Awright awright, load it up, load it up, awright, cool 

Yeah, got em! 
Ay, what about these sellout motherfuckers! 
Who?  
You know these sellout motherfuckers -- Ellay DuHarris 
Who else? 
Tom Bradley 
Who else? 
David Dinkins, ay, line em up 
Yeah be true to the game 

Ay, we outta ammo, what we gon do? 
Let's get the f*ck up outta here 
Aight cool, we out

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