Industrial Revolution Lyrics

[Verse 1:]
Yeah nigga, Immortal Technique, Metaphysics

The bling bling era was cute but it's about to be done
I leave you full of clips like the moon blocking the sun
My metaphors are dirty like herpes but harder to catch
Like an escape tunnel in prison I started from scratch
And now these parasites want a percentof my asscap
Trying to control perspective like an acid flashback
But here's a quotable for every single record exec
Get your fucking hands out my pocket nigga like Malcolm X
But this ain't a movie, I'm not a fan or a groupie
And I'm not that type of cat, you can afford to miss if you shoot me
Curse to heavens and laugh when the sky electrocutes me
Immortal Technique stuck in your thoughts darkening dreams
No ones as good as good as me, they just got better marketing schemes
I leave you to your own destruction like sparking a fiend
Cause you got jealousy in your voice like Starscream
And that's the primary reason that I hate ya'll faggots
I've been nice since niggaz got killed over 8-ball jackets
And Reebok Pumps that didn't do shit for the sneaker
I'm a heatseaker with features that'll reach through the speaker
And murder counter revolutionaries personally
Break a thermometer and force feed these kids mercury
A&R's tried jerking me thinking they call shots
Offered me a deal and a blanket full of smallpox
You're all getting shot, you little fucking treacherous bitches

[Hook:]
This is the business, and ya'll ain't getting nothing for free
And if you devils play broke, then I'm taking your company
You can call it reparations or restitution
Lock and load nigga, industrial revolution

[Verse 2:]
I want 53 million dollars for my college stands
Like the Bush administration gave to the Taliban
And fuck packing grams nigga, learn to speak and behave
You wanna spend twenty years as a government slave
Two million people in prison keep the government paid
Stuck in a six by eight cell alive in a grave
I was made by revolution to speak to the masses
Deep in the club toast the truth, reach for your glasses
I'll burn an orphanage just to bring heat to you bastards
Innocent deep in a casket, columbian fashion
Intoxicated off the flow like thugs passion
You motherfuckers will never get me to stop blastin'
You're better off asking Ariel Sharon for compasion
You're better off begging for twenty points for my label
You're better off battling cancer under telephone cables
Technique chemically unstable, set to explode
Foretold by the dead sea scrolls written in codes
So if your message ain't shit, fuck the records you sold
Cause if you go platinum, it's got nothing to do with luck
It just means that a million people are stupid as fuck
Stuck in the underground in general and rose to the limit
Without distribution managers, a deal, or a gimmick
Revolutionary Volume 2, murder the critics
And leave your fucking body rotten for the roaches and crickets

[Hook]

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