Hey yo Sabacolypse, I brought a lot of Glocks and lots of clips
Up in the caravan with Taliban who [bad word] the fifth
Bush ran from a war and straight ducked that
Bush wanna send me to war? I say [bad word] that
We war and buck back with the cannon or knife
Cause Vinnie Paz ain’t have a problem with Iran in his life
And I ain’t got a problem stabbing up your man with a spike
But I got a problem murdering a man and his wife
For some land that I ain’t never even stand in my life
For a man who couldn’t tell you what abandonment’s like
Been scammed all my life from Reaganomics to the crack war
And y’all are wondering what [bad word] around with gats for
All I ask for is a good night’s sleep
So I pray to Allah hoping that the hood might eat
Each one teaches ones but the hood like beef
But I’m a hypocrite daddy so I pull my heat

 [bad word]  Sabac]

We fighting a war in the jungle of the ghetto
Your life will be gone once we hurt you with the metal
We blast at the system, bang for the streets
Urban gorillas [bad word] hanging the beast

We fighting a war in the jungle of the ghetto
Your life will be gone once we hurt you with the metal
We blast at the system, bang for the streets
Urban gorillas [bad word] hanging the beast

[Verse 2: Sabac]

We urban gorillas on the move like John Africa
We the masses that practice tactics right out of Attica
We blast at you, catch you for hostage, torture demons
For all the bleeding we must have war before freedom
Y’all fiending and loathing hopes to reach an atonement
We’ll have peace in a moment after we beat our opponents
We jonesing like Jonestown Massacre, the White Knight
Forcing suicides spike your soft drinks with cyanide
Call it payback for what you made and inflicted
We live in a world being lead by racists and bigots
We stripped the land from the natives and chose to call them Americans
Then claimed it as ours as if they forfeit inheritance
It’s evident intelligence and weapons [bad word] medicine
We’ll overthrow the devils in power and move ahead of them
We veterans from poverty, we rocking the streets
Freedom and [bad word] when we conquer the beast

 [bad word] 

[Verse 3: Q-Unique]

With the right to bear arms I’m excited to throw one
Q the urban gorilla, Brooklyn’s Mighty Joe Young
That faces the firing squad that’ll spit on three
Screaming till my death, “King Kong ain’t got [bad word] on me.”
I beat on my chest with the game of a Silverback
I don’t fire warning shots, take aim with a killer gat
Them peace talks and rallies will get so far
Fight the most powerful imperialists in the name of Elizam Escobar
Guerrilla warfare training camps in the projects
? climb the staircase till your heart rate progress
I spit possessed by the soul of ?
Lead rips through your chest till the welfare let go of my people
I was raised in the Bronx, Congo jungle
Where the Ball Busters and Zulus locked in a [bad word] 
And you could lose your gold over a Bronco fumble
And the CIA [bad word] interrogate your sidekick until your Tonto [bad word] 

 [bad word]