American Machine

Song: American Machine

Album: After What Came Before

Artist: The Blend

Written by Toussaint Morrison

Released April 23, 2005

ref: 

You can bet ot, where it starts and it stops

isn't dependent on whether you raise your fist up or not.

Cos' somewhere upon a desktop

you could find your measurements, profile, and headshot.

Gridlocked on blocks, no Idon't stress cops

even after 9/11 when my rights left dodge.

Next thing I know they're roamin' streets dressed up

with the James Dean shades, black hats and lip gloss,

pissed off, cos' most of the brothahs got tipped off-

dipped out the chi, to the m-p-l spot

claimin' that they got the rap game in a choke hold

while the system gots their dick up their ass, screamin' uncle.

Ya' run,kill, drink, smoke, and thug still.

They got their eye on ya' waitin' for blood spill

to get their cup filled, and fuel this machine.

Can't tell… you're bleedin' gasoline

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Chorus

Pour the oil out, and I'll light ya' fire

Lay my soil down and walk stride for stride

Shoot rhyme for rhyme at any lie ya try

To sell a nightmare as a dream

Persuade the streets to gunfight for life

And get the people to build an appetite for pie

I'm gonna fight the fight, walk stride for stride

Against the American Machine

-

Sip champagne on ya’ public campaign,

preach and make claims on how you plan to make change.

Ya’ don’t accentuate what ya’ really wanna say

is that the only change’ll be made for ya’ pay.

Said there’s no in-between, only an either-or.

Want to make the gap wider between rich and poor.

Take caution, be careful what you wish for

cos’ the next day ya’ might have a riot at ya’ door.

Want to hush hush the voices with questions

about livin’ wages and income.

I know what’s goin’ on with ya’ unaccounted funds.

I’m not a fool my momma come from the union.

Put ya’ in the chair, now time to testify.

Ladies and gentlemen would the court please rise

and pay witness to all ya’ unveiled lies.

Oh the picture was so pretty now it don’t look nice.

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Chorus

-

Make statements to stay protected.

Call it racist when it’s afro-centric.

Call it what ya’ want, but the police do mind

when a fist gets raised up yellin’ African pride.

If ya’ don’t stand for somethin’ then you’ll for anything,

manipulated easily into following.

That’s not my calling, but sometimes I watch for kicks,

sit and listen to your speeches just for entertainment,

but what’ll happen to song when the chorus won’t sing?

Your deejay quits, and there’s no beat dropping-

out of the sky like a bird with one wing.

It’s hard to stand for something when you’re always falling.

It’s hard to stand for something when you’re always on your knees

beggin’ for forgiveness from your god or deity.

Want to repent for all the things that you took from the hood.

Please raise your right and place your left hand upon the book.

-

Chorus