[Intro]
Yea
This is a song called Attica Black
It's a song about the mediocracy in mediocracy
And just, in general, the mediocracy in life
We hope you enjoy our presentation

[Verse One]
Children gather round and let the rhythm buried in ya come alive with every word I speak
It's something that you really gotta feel to understand so bring a little bit ganja with ya
I scurry through my tapes straight looking for escapes from the mediocracy
There's gotta be stops gotta see how it ought to be not to be preaching but the wack just ain't dead yet
When you feel the funk inside ya
The inner soul is on its way
By the fire was I annihilatin' and breakin' em down
Was countin' and pointin' the mountain and I'm slayin' all the
To rule the industry instead of rhyming to be free you're rhymin' to get over losin' all the
So like the brothers in the prisons when conditions weren't improvin' started lootin' and the aunt said
And the aunt said
And the aunt said

[Interlude]
Does anybody know what the situation is?
Do you know what we can do and what we can't do?
We can't say and what we can say? I don't know that anymore
I don't have enough time to go and research all the laws
So I'm in the position that the only thing I can say about that is, "Fuck it"
[Verse Two]
Why'd you go and fall off and leave a motherfucker hanging on for some pawn shit, but you're butt as soft as some [Jello]
You want ya props
As far as I'm concerned ya finished and we never want you back no mo'
Here to take the poor conditions listeners are listenin' within to a higher plateau
Necessary dues to show our skills cuz there's just something too important and a fat bankroll
Wrecks well, neck swell from the thunder of the grooves in the headphone
Let's bail to a place called Melodica where rhythm is a way of life and when I'm at home Imma sing with the voice of a harp let our poems scurry free from the death of a melody
Rhymes be compellin' me to take our crews to break out fools make out do's and don'ts and rules you won't be able to front
I gotta be able to do what a rapper is able to do to give the people what they want

[Verse Three]
I'm takin' my time and
I'm makin' it rhyme and I'm makin' it shine and I'm blowin' they mind and I'm showin' hip hop and I'm doin' it every day
Takin' it, fakin' it, breakin' away all the blues
Ya know... Just tellin' it
Now I'm harder than a mother just singing this song
And keeping hella those smoke from the bong
Every little thing I do
And every little rap I do's an opportunity to dine on your carcass
Dine on your carcass
Dine on your carcass I thought you knew that talk is cheap
So peep the unique chic—the beat raucous (style)
You never heard before: words galore
I donor more for your pleasure madame
Miles to go, bro, so check out the flow so low no emcee can withstand the momentum, bent 'em, pent 'em, sent 'em
Flip the song back and let's start it all over again
Let's start it all over again
[Outro]
I [?] the blood
Who got whitey
I got the soul
Who got whitey
Black ain't only beautiful—It's bad too
It's fast, classy, name takin', and ass-kickin' good
I'm lookin' f' five B's that say it ain't true
Put your money where your mind is, come on