Ghetto Manifesto by The Coup Lyrics
[Intro]
I've been trying to get into this, uh, house party but they ain't playing nothing I can feel, you know what I mean?
They playin' a little somethin' here and there, but I don't know, I might be—
[Verse 1: Boots Riley]
I write my lyrics on parking tickets and summons to the court
I scribbled this on an application for county support
I practice this like a sport, met Donald Trump and he froze up
Standing on his Bentley yelling, "Pimps down, hoes up"
Some tryin' to front off, break our ass a clump off
We gon' stop the world and make y'all motherfuckers jump off
This is my resume slash resignation
A ransom note with proposed legislation
A fevered ultimatum, you should take it verbatim
'Cause I got two bangin' pieces and you don't wanna date 'em
Flyin' kites for my folks at home who takin' tokes alone
We payin' rent on shit they don't even supposed to own
Narratin' through my verse, agitatin' you to curse
It's a million motherfuckers just waitin' on the first
Anticipatin' on the worst, wanna weightin' up ya purse?
Shut the jobby-job down at noon and don't disperse!
They wouldn't pay ya ass as far as they could throw you
They think you punkin' but they don't know you
This a turf operata, play with 12-shot Berettas
By the Burger King workers who be slappin' on ya lettuce
Wrote that in the back of those apartments
On coupons from agricultural departments
When we put down the XO, we can let the threats go
And start shit, it's the ghetto manifesto
[Chorus: T-Kash]
That's what I'm talking about
Make me scream and shout
East, West, North, and South
Gonna turn this party out (hey, hey)
That's what I'm talking about
Make me scream and shout
East, West, North, and South
Gonna turn this party out (hey, hey)
[Verse 2: Boots Riley]
Call me bird 'cause of my legs but my ass don't sing
Got a house arrest anklet but it don't bling-bling
Got a homie with a cell but that shit don't ring
But at lights out, bars clang and souls get stained
Now it's the hustler's soundtrack, where they muscle around blacks
Make ya thoughts heavy, drop a jewel and make the ground crack
Even renowned hack historians have found that
The people only bound back when they pound back
So I take out a spray can and pace the pavement
Deface engravements of a suffering they sent
The fouls are flagrant and death's the fragrance
I overheard them askin' vagrants for patience
So check the liner notes, I steal my finer quotes
From D-boys tryna float and Bourgies in designer boats
And party liner jokes and all kind of folks who kinda of broke
But bought twenties cause they feel like a minor spoke
The trees we got lifted by made our feet dangle
So when I say burn one, I mean the Star-Spangled
Let's all get high from the income angle
Bump this at the party even if it ain't the single
Here's a slum serenade on razor blades and grenades
By the nannies and maids who be polishin' the suede
You could let the cess blow but let's make the sets grow
Into brigades with the ghetto manifesto
[Chorus: T-Kash]
That's what I'm talking about
Make me scream and shout
East, West, North, and South
Gonna turn this party out (hey, hey)
That's what I'm talking about
Make me scream and shout
East, West, North, and South
Gonna turn this party out (hey, hey)
That's what I'm talking about
Make me scream and shout
East, West, North, and South
Gonna turn this party out (hey, hey)
That's what I'm talking about
Make me scream and shout
East, West, North, and South
Gonna turn this party out (hey, hey)
I've been trying to get into this, uh, house party but they ain't playing nothing I can feel, you know what I mean?
They playin' a little somethin' here and there, but I don't know, I might be—
[Verse 1: Boots Riley]
I write my lyrics on parking tickets and summons to the court
I scribbled this on an application for county support
I practice this like a sport, met Donald Trump and he froze up
Standing on his Bentley yelling, "Pimps down, hoes up"
Some tryin' to front off, break our ass a clump off
We gon' stop the world and make y'all motherfuckers jump off
This is my resume slash resignation
A ransom note with proposed legislation
A fevered ultimatum, you should take it verbatim
'Cause I got two bangin' pieces and you don't wanna date 'em
Flyin' kites for my folks at home who takin' tokes alone
We payin' rent on shit they don't even supposed to own
Narratin' through my verse, agitatin' you to curse
It's a million motherfuckers just waitin' on the first
Anticipatin' on the worst, wanna weightin' up ya purse?
Shut the jobby-job down at noon and don't disperse!
They wouldn't pay ya ass as far as they could throw you
They think you punkin' but they don't know you
This a turf operata, play with 12-shot Berettas
By the Burger King workers who be slappin' on ya lettuce
Wrote that in the back of those apartments
On coupons from agricultural departments
When we put down the XO, we can let the threats go
And start shit, it's the ghetto manifesto
[Chorus: T-Kash]
That's what I'm talking about
Make me scream and shout
East, West, North, and South
Gonna turn this party out (hey, hey)
That's what I'm talking about
Make me scream and shout
East, West, North, and South
Gonna turn this party out (hey, hey)
[Verse 2: Boots Riley]
Call me bird 'cause of my legs but my ass don't sing
Got a house arrest anklet but it don't bling-bling
Got a homie with a cell but that shit don't ring
But at lights out, bars clang and souls get stained
Now it's the hustler's soundtrack, where they muscle around blacks
Make ya thoughts heavy, drop a jewel and make the ground crack
Even renowned hack historians have found that
The people only bound back when they pound back
So I take out a spray can and pace the pavement
Deface engravements of a suffering they sent
The fouls are flagrant and death's the fragrance
I overheard them askin' vagrants for patience
So check the liner notes, I steal my finer quotes
From D-boys tryna float and Bourgies in designer boats
And party liner jokes and all kind of folks who kinda of broke
But bought twenties cause they feel like a minor spoke
The trees we got lifted by made our feet dangle
So when I say burn one, I mean the Star-Spangled
Let's all get high from the income angle
Bump this at the party even if it ain't the single
Here's a slum serenade on razor blades and grenades
By the nannies and maids who be polishin' the suede
You could let the cess blow but let's make the sets grow
Into brigades with the ghetto manifesto
[Chorus: T-Kash]
That's what I'm talking about
Make me scream and shout
East, West, North, and South
Gonna turn this party out (hey, hey)
That's what I'm talking about
Make me scream and shout
East, West, North, and South
Gonna turn this party out (hey, hey)
That's what I'm talking about
Make me scream and shout
East, West, North, and South
Gonna turn this party out (hey, hey)
That's what I'm talking about
Make me scream and shout
East, West, North, and South
Gonna turn this party out (hey, hey)