A Letter to the New York Post Songtext
von Public Enemy

Yo, gee
Come and get your New York Post
New York Post right here
Come on, y′all
Get the Post, uh, Post, uh, Post, uh, Post, uh
Coast to coast, uh, New York Post, uh

Yo, New York Post, don't brag or boast
Dissin′ flavor when he's butter that you put on your toast
Put my address in the paper, 'cause I smacked that girl
She′s the mother of my kids that I took around the world
Disagreements, having scuffles when you share upon
You shouldn′t try to drain subjects in a duck pond

If you're gonna tell a story about people′s worries
Just mind what you tell 'em, ′cause they don't bring glory (uh)
It only brings agony, ask James Cagney
He beat up on a guy when he found he was a fagney
Cagney is a favorite, he is my boy
′Cause he don't jive around, he's a real McCoy


Yeah, you tellin′ Flav we got to let ′em know
Here's a letter to the New York Post
The worst piece of paper on the East Coast
Matter of fact the whole state′s

Forty cents in New York City, fifty cents elsewhere
It makes no goddamn sense at all
America's oldest continuously published daily piece of bullshit
Flavor Flav is the one that makes The Post money

Writers making violence in headlines funny
Tryin′ to undress my past until it's naked
Post got Flavor from sellin′ no records
Europe, Asia to the street of New York
Flavor Flav known for his finesse talk
Do it to ya for The Post to employ me
New York Post can't destroy me

Rapper Public Enemy, rapstar beats lover
With the headline of a fucked up cover
Out the pot took plate, New York Post
Get your story straight, motherfucker
It always seems that they make our neighborhood look bad
Here's a letter to the New York Post
Ain′t worth the paper it′s printed on


Founded in 1801 by Alexander Hamilton
That's 190 years of continuous fucked up news
Yo, one can play the game, two can play the game
Yo, Flav, read on, can′t forget you either Jet
Flavor Flav is your best Jet yet

My own people own the most business
Wrote on faith of valuesness
Should have checked with me before you wrote it
Got it from another source and quote it

Put it out like the New Year bull drop
In every beauty parlor and barber shop
Flavor Flav, world renown
Can't keep a man like Flavor down

Yo, Jet, be a good host
Don′t print bull like the New York Post
Ah, looks like somebody slipped up here
Well, anyway, here's a letter to the New York Post

Black newspaper and magazines are supposed to get the real deal
From the source, y′all
Sorry, Jet, you took the info straight out of The Post
Burned us like toast
So, when it comes down to gettin' the facts straight about P.E.
Get your shit correct