Weapon X Songtext
von X-Clan

I′m not known for the singin' of the common man′s grammar
J from the Clan but I'm not a Wu-Tanger
Concrete guerrilla, still spittin' bananas
Reset the foundation by swingin′ a new hammer
Glitz and the glamour come secondary
To my timeless jewels and street knowledge degrees (come on)
Weapon X haters: down on your knees
Throw your rhymes in the flames and repent to the east
One two three and a three two one
Exodus, hip hop redemption
Resurrection, tell folks I′m all one
Like my boy in Amistad: "Me wants free-dom!"
Round the mountain I come
Hannibal's descendent won′t stand for minimum
Dummyville's gunners that bring the hella heat
My underground scroll′s spellbound in the street
Weapon X - contact for the next level room
Ease back, silly mortals - dark sun, give me room
Weapon X - Grand verb modern day dot doom
My armor for the jihad - the cipher - zoom


Born do or die, Brooklyn's where I′m from
My sole agenda's to rep the African
In the hip-hop manner, we've come a long way
From a birth stick click to a dark sun ray
In a state of war, verbalizing the peace
My hostility is (tall clerics?) in the beast
That′s why I don′t cease when I resurrect fam
Community soldiers who onslaught the jam
Positive thinking - my streets be stinkin'
With the wrong kind of pimpin′
To turn on our own is the first step to simpin'
Chain of fools - kids set trippin′ on the steps of school
Tell folks to cool and possess with 'nesse
Or be a contribution to the prison business
You know how it goes, son; there′s nothin' to guess
You can be a strange fruit and be straight innocent
Frederick Douglass - Wheatley - Carver
Clayton Junior - David Walker
Sonny Carson to H. Rap Brown
Ancestry that worked the black crowd
THINK! As if you were born in the stars
Enrolled in the army of Abdul-Jabbars
THINK! As if you were born in the gods
And you end up a mortal gettin' whiplash scars
Never forget from whence you′re from
Master antennas of peace and freedom
Dance to the rhythm of the evolve drum
Never humdrum - you′re dealin' with the sun
It′s a horizon of the loud proud free
Sticky freaky plants of the (fleet just feed?)
Now my attitude is worse than an AK
Clip never stoppin' when my sweet tongue spray
Ever essence of flight - keepin′ it tight
We mad future mystics, we offer insight