Telegram

[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!