Lyrics
Transmission, third World War, third round
A decade of the weapon of sound above ground
No shelter, if you're looking for shade
I lick shots at the brutal charade
As the polls close like a casket, on truth devoured
A silent play on the shadow of power
A spectacle monopolized
The cameras eyes on choice disguised
Was it cast for the mass who burn and toil
Or for the vultures who thirst for blood and oil?
Yes, a spectacle monopolized
They hold the reins, stole your eyes
All the Fist-a-gons, the bullets, and bombs
Who stuff the banks, who staff the party ranks
More for Gore or the son of a drug lord
None of the above, fuck it, cut the cord!
Lights out! Guerrilla radio!
Turn that shit up!
Lights out! Guerrilla radio!
Turn that shit up!
Lights out! Guerrilla radio!
Turn that shit up!
Lights out! Guerrilla radio!
Contact, I hijacked the frequencies
Blockin' the beltway, move on DC!
Way past the days of bombin' MCs
Sound off, Mumia go on be free!
Who got 'em? Yo, check the federal file
All you pendejos know the trial was vile
An army of pigs try to silence my style
Off 'em all out that box, it's my radio dial!
Lights out! Guerrilla radio!
Turn that shit up!
Lights out! Guerrilla radio!
Turn that shit up!
Lights out! Guerrilla radio!
Turn that shit up!
Lights out! Guerrilla radio!
Turn that shit up!
It has to start somewhere
It has to start sometime
What better place than here?
What better time than now?
All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now
