The People Are sh*t lyrics

(Immortal Technique)

Yeah...
Its Harlem.. (ahahaa)
Tellin' you the other side of the story (yeah!)
Its that serious (let these muthaf*ckas know!)

The peoples souls are dirty, unworthy
Your words of salvation are murder capital
Clappin' you on random occasions
In the hood the good die young cause death is impatient
The laws are manufactured by one religious denomination
Its fate that I spit, sick psychotic analogies
This is a world where n*ggas pimp the children and their family
The beast and the false prophet, move closer gradually
Unforgivable sins, satanic bestiality
You got the muthaf*ckin nerve to point your finger mad at me
Cause' I select to put the world in perspective for clarity
Street hustle ghetto salary, grammatically perfect
Now f*ck soundscan, my sound make your faculty nervous
Selfish and worthless, placin' they faith in partisan churches
And too self-righteous to look beyond the curses
So I made it my purpose to purchase space in your brain
And flood the f*ckin border with Peruvian cocaine!
While they engineer diseases tryna leave you dead again
Corporate strategy, the profit producing the medicine
My flow is human evolution, savage to elegant
Run up on a n*gga, like a military regiment
c*ckin' the gat, lock and load, poppin a cap
Making your stomach acid splatter out a hole in your back
Cold on the track, the soul I hold is older than rap
So I can the evil and sh*tty people across the map (hahahaa)
You thought I wouldn't see you for the devil you are
Fake muthaf*ckas turn around, tryna be stars
Turn their back on those who used to be fam
Over short money, type you get hustling grams

f*ck outta here'

And when your record label wanna hold your masters, publishing and manage your marketing budget its like...

And when your peeps come home from prison, and can't get a job, then gotta do the same sh*t, that was the same sh*t that got them locked up in the first place its like...

And we got our true promoters that put a f*ckin gun in a mixtape DJ's mouth just to get him to play a f*ckin record that you pressed up yourself and no one else is helping you with, its like..

Yeah.. The people are sh*t (f*ck y'all)