Check What You’re Listening To lyrics

[Introduction]
[Chuck D]
"It was a lot of hard work. Although we were on this pedestal, there was still places that wouldn't play our records; radio stations that wouldn't play our records. There was no support for rap, and we was just fighting for hip-hop, fighting for rap..."

[Scratching]
"Today, it's time to stop singin' and start swingin'..."
"I'm here to tell you, in case you don't know it. You got a new generation of black people who don't care anything whatsoever"

[Verse 1]
The Black falling down, its goin down
No subject matter, I dont hear it goin around
Minds over matter, they don't mind cause
We don't matter, DJ Lord's on the platter
Can't shake this, the goddamn matrix
Got actors winning politics, the tricks
Got hot chicks in the back of of wack ass rap flicks
Called videos, ho! (Ho!)
Turn off the goddamn radio
Cause they don't show y'all what y'all need to know
Can't fade it though, Lord don't fade it yo
(Public Enemy Number One) Year of the Lord, Make Love f*ck War Tour
After before 2004, I swore
DJ Lord come bust down the door
Los Angel-less, New Jack Pity
They say f*ck the sticks cause they be the city
Homeless sitting outside smellin' sh*tty
Thanks for not giving a goddamn thing pretty
So-called land of plenty, can't spare a penny
It's the have-not's against the have's, is you with me?
[Hook with DJ scratches]
"Yo what's up?"
"Y'all know the name..."
"D, the enemy..."
Check what ya listenin' to
"How can I make you understand?"
"Our DJ's better than all these bands"
Check what ya listenin' to

[Verse 2]
You might be cuttin' tracks but he's cuttin' edge
The sword of Lord high like Phil Upchurch
Through the verse, the truth hurts from the aftermath
Of that sonic autograph
Lord, don't make him mad, so I spit
How loud you want it to get? Cold sweat
2005 flicks, new trips through dirty beats
Hits and all those bass kicks; lookout, y'all
C'mon, can't forget to kick this
If the shoe fits get with the ramblin' wreck, check it
To stomp out all them nitwits, Chuck D stylin'
Don't you know we're on the new Buckwhylin'
Cross the Land, cause the band
Hits the fans, watch them all slam the jam
Yes they can can, beware the man
Take a stand y'all, wreck the plan
[DJ scratches]
"Ahh..."
"Public Enemy Number 1, Public Enemy Number 1"
Check what ya listenin' to
"Radio"
"I ain't with it"
"So what'cha sayin?"
"Consider yourselves warned!"
"Yeah, y'all!"
"Louder!"
Check what ya listenin' to

[Verse 3]
One foot stuck in the rave
Millennium dance craze, cross fade to the new phase
Like the old days, twisted in convoluted systems
Existed in the beats of wisdom existence
Cross the Land, cause the band
Hits the fans, watch them all slam the jam
Illegal beats, frisk him
Find not a pop thing with him
Multi-ethnic like a prism
Can't hear this?
You in audio prison, hands be whizzin, cross the wax
Movin' tracks from across the tracks
Through your mind he attacks, DJ Lord
Scratch the gospel, tell them wack ass beats
They can go to hell, ding! The rave bell
See the crowd swell, got even when the needle fell
Still heard them cuts over the yell
Through the verse, the truth hurts
From the aftermath of that sonic autograph
Mr Chuck, DJ Lord attack the tracks
Y'all check what you listening to
[DJ Scratches]
"I came in the door, I said it before..."
"We got this..."
Check what ya listening to
"Woop, woop, that's the sound of the police
"Woop, woop, that's the sound of the..."
Check what ya listening to
(scratching)
Check what ya listening to
"Run, run, run, run, run, run"
Check what ya listening to
"Rock and roll"
"Aw sh*t"
"Public Enemy"
"Word"
"Round-round-round-round"
"So what you on, Hobbs, dope or dog food?"
"Let's turn back the clock and listen to this classic melody"
"Ladies and gentlemen, presenting..."
"Jam Master Jay"
"Jam, jam, jam, jam, jam"
"This is dedicated to..."
"Jam Master Jay"
"Jam, jam, jam, jam"
"Jam Master Jay"
"Yo Jay"
"One of the greatest... of all times..."