This is a call out to all the youth in the ghettos, suburbs, villages, townships

To all the kids who download this song for free

By any means

To all the kids short on loot but high on dreams

All the kids watching TV like, "Yo, I wish that was me." 

And all the kids pressing rewind on Let's Get Free 

I hear you

To all the people within the sound of my voice



Spit for the hated, the reviled, the unrefined

The no ones, the nobodies, the last in line

Shakespeare

Spit for the hated, the reviled, the unrefined

The no ones, the nobodies, the last in line



I didn't vote for this state of affairs

My emotional state's got me prostrate, fearing my fears

In all reality I'm under prepared

'Cause I'm ready for war but not sure if I'm ready to care

And that's why I'm under prepared

'Cause I'm ready to fight

But most fights got me fighting back tears

'Cause the truth is really I'm scared

Not scared of the truth

But just scared of the length you'll go to fight it

I tried to hold my tongue, son

I tried to bite it

I'm not trying to start a riot or incite it

'Cause Brutus is an honorable man

It's just coincidence that oil men would wage war on an oil rich land

And this one goes out to my man

taking cover in the trenches with a gun in his hand

then gets home and no one flinches when he can't feed his fam

But Brutus is an honorable man



Spit for the hated, the reviled, the unrefined

The no ones, the nobodies, the last in line

Shakespeare

Spit for the hated, the reviled, the unrefined

The no ones, the nobodies, the last in line



If you have tears prepare to shed them now

For you share the guilt of blood spilt in accordance with the Dow Jones

Dow drops fresh crop skull and bones

A machete in the heady, Hutu, Tutsi, Leone

An Afghani in a shanty, doodle dandy yank on 

An Iraqi in Gap khaki, Coca Coma come on

Be ye bishop or pawn 

In the streets or the lawn

You should know that these example could go on and on and 

What since does it make to keep your ears to the street

As long as oils in the soil, truth is never concrete

So we dare to represent those with the barest of feet

'Cause the laws to which we're loyal keep the soil deplete

It's our job to not let history repeat



Spit for the hated, the reviled, the unrefined

The no ones, the nobodies, the last in line

Shakespeare

Spit for the hated, the reviled, the unrefined

The no ones, the nobodies, the last in line

Shakespeare

Spit for the hated, the reviled, the unrefined

The no ones, the nobodies, the last in line

Shakespeare

Spit for the hated, the reviled, the unrefined

The no ones, the nobodies, the last in line



So here's the plan

The ides of march are always at hand

And when the power hungry strike

They strike the poorest of man

And if you dare put up a fight

They'll come and fight for your land

And they'll call it liberation or salvation

A call to the youth

Your freedom ain't so free, it's just loose

But the power of your voice could redirect any truth

Shift and shape the world you want 

And keep your fears in a noose

Let them dangle from a banner star spangled

I'm willing and able

To lift my dreams up out of their cradle

Nurse and nurture my ideals 

'Til they're much more than a fable

I can be all I can be and do much more than I'm paid to

And I won't be a slave to 

What authorities say do

My desire to live within a nation on fire

Where creative passions burn and raise the stakes ever higher

Where no person is addicted top some twisted supplier 

Who promotes the sort of freedom sold to the highest buyer

We demand a truth naturally at one with the land

Not a plant that photosynthesizes bombs on demand

Or a search for any weapons we let fall from our hands

I got beats and a plan

I'mma do what I can

And what you do is question everything they say do

Every goal ideal or value they keep pushing on you

If they ask you to believe it question whether it's true

If they ask you to achieve, is it for them or for you? 

You're the one they're asking to go carry a gun

Warfare ain't humanitarian

You're scaring me, son

Why not fight to feed the homeless, jobless, fight inflation?

Why not fight for our own healthcare and our education?

And instead, invest in that erasable lead

'Cause their twisted propaganda can't erase all the dead

And the pile of corpses pyramid on top of our heads

Or nevermind, said the shotgun to the head