[Saul Williams]
I'm falling up flights of stairs, scraping myself from the sidewalk
Jumping from rivers to bridges, drowning in pure air
Hip hop is lying on the side of the road, half dead to itself
Blood scrawled over its mangled flesh, like jazz
Stuffed into an oversized record bag
Tuba lips swollen beyond recognition
Diamond studded teeth strewn like rice at Karma's wedding
The ring bearer bore bad news
Minister of information wrote the wrong proclamation
Now everyone's singing the wrong song
Dissonant chords find necks like nooses
That nigga kicked the chair from under my feet
Harlem shaking from a rope, but still on beat
"Damn, that loop is tight," that nigga found a way to sample the way, the truth, the light
Can't wait to play myself at the party tonight
Niggas are gonna die!
Cop car swerves to the side of the road
Hip hop takes its last breath
The cop scrawls "vernacular manslaughter" onto a yellow pad
Then balls the paper into his hand, deciding he'd rather freestyle
You have the right to remain silent
You have the right to remain silent
And maybe you should have, maybe you should have, before your bullshit manifested

Yo, these thugs can't fuck with me, they're too thugged out
Niggas think I'm bugged out, cause I ain't Sean John or Lugged out
This ain't hip hop no more, son, it's bigger than that
This ain't ghetto no more, black, it's bigger than black
So where my aliens at? Girl, we're all illegal
This system ain't for us, it's for rich people
And you ain't rich, dawg, you just got money
But you can't buy shit to not get hungry

[Saul Williams]
Telegram to Hip Hop: Dear Hip Hop, (Stop)
This shit has gone too far (Stop)
Please see that turntables and mixer are returned to Kool Herc (Stop)
The ghettos are dancing off beat (Stop)
The master of ceremonies have forgotten that they
Were once slaves and have neglected the occasion of this ceremony (Stop)
Perhaps we should not have encouraged them to use cordless microphones
For they have walked too far from the source and are emitting a lesser frequency (Stop)
Please inform all interested parties that cash
Nor murder have been included to the list of elements (Stop)
We are discontinuing our current line of braggadocio
In light of the current trend in "realness" (Stop)
As an alternative, we will be confiscating weed supplies and replacing them with magic mushrooms
In hopes of helping niggas see beyond their reality (Stop)
Give my regards to Brooklyn

Yo, these thugs can't fuck with me, they're too thugged out
Niggas think I'm bugged out, cause I ain't Sean John or Lugged out
This ain't hip hop no more, son, it's bigger than that
This ain't ghetto no more, black, it's bigger than black
So where my aliens at? Girl, we're all illegal
This system ain't for us, it's for rich people
And you ain't rich, dawg, you just got money
But you can't buy shit to not get hungry

[Saul Williams]
These cats can't fuck with me, I purr purple
Sold, increased, toe shell like a turtle
I walk the streets like the lie that I'm telling
One listener grips me and starts yellin'
I see through speakers, I speak what's seen
I eat and shed, I sleep and dream
I walk the streets of London like, "Know what I mean?"
And chillin; at Waggamama eatin; crib soy beans
It's like that!