Everybody two-step in the motherfucker, what? Leave your sorrow on the table Pick up your worries and throw them out the window You don't gotta let your friends know There's so much trouble to get into Let's go, let go Two-step in the motherfucker, yeah

Have you seen my wife, Mr. Jones? Do you know what it's like on the outside? Don't go talking too loud, you'll cause a landslide, Mr. Jones. In the event of something happening to me, There is something I would like you all to see. It's just a photograph

Long enough now I'm strong enough To know you gotta go There's no more to say So save your breath No matter what I hear you say I'm telling you Strong enough and I quite crying I don't need your sympathy There's nothing you can say or do for me

Choose what you wish to believe Choose what you wish to see The hatred one can't ignore Let the gathering begin You say you don't know what its all about Just look around, you'll see there is no doubt The worms and maggots gather for the feast An endless

What's your name? Oh, I really wanna know I turn around You're there again Then suddenly you're gone I wanna get to know you But I don't know who you are

I know I ain't perfect, but look I'm working I could make a melody like, "yeah, yeah" We just turning up, what you really want? They tryna tell us that we can't go back there Don't tell me you love me, show me the money Where I'm from, love can go bad,

Well, if you don't know what I mean Won't you stand up and scream? 'Cause there's things goin' on that you don't know Well, have you ever lived down in the ghetto? Have you ever felt the cold wind blow? Too many lives they've spent across the ocean Too

You know we've got to find a way Picket lines and picket signs Don't punish me with brutality What's going on Yeah, what's going on Right on baby Mother, mother There's too many of you crying Brother, brother, brother

Oh! Mama, Mama look there! Your children are playing in that street again Don't you know what happened down there? A youth of fourteen got shot down there The Kokane guns of Jamdown Town The killing clowns, the blood money men Are shooting those

Whatever you may hear or see Us of constant banging Throwing fists against the wall How cruel time can be When you wake you'll know I'm gone And where I'm going there's no one So don't follow me Don't follow me