connecting*the*dots

Artist: Public Enemy
Song: Louder Than A Bomb

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Professor Griff:
They claim we’re products from the bottom of hell,
‘Cause the black is back and it’s bound to sell.
Picture us coolin’ out on the fourth of July,
And if you heard we were celebrating that’s a world wide lie!
Yo Chuck!
The fed-dead-arals, man, trying to pull a 2-2-6 on ya G,
Yo man,
Show ‘em what you got!
Sh-Show ‘em what you got!

Chuck D:
This style seems wild.
Wait before you treat me like a stepchild!
Let me tell you why they got me on file,
‘Cause I give you what you lack,
Come right and exact,
Our status is the saddest,
So I care where you at, black!
And at home I got a call from Tony Rome,
The FBI was tappin’ my telephone.
I never live alone.
I never walk alone.
My posses always ready, and they’re waitin’ in my zone.
Although I live the life that of a resident,
But I be knowin’ the scheme that of the president,
Tappin’ my phone whose crews abused,
I stand accused of doing harm.
‘Cause I’m louder than a bomb.

C’mon, C’mon.
Louder! Louder. (C’mon, C’mon…C’mon)
Louder! Louder. (C’mon, C’mon…C’mon)
Louder! (C’mon Track Cut)

Professor Griff:
Hey yo D!
Show ‘em you on the block
Show ‘em you on the block, D!

Chuck D:
I am,
A rock hard trooper,
To the bone, the bone, the bone.
Full grown - consider me - stone!
Once again and,
I say it for you to know.
The troop is always ready.
I yell `Geronimo’.
Your CIA, you see I ain’t kiddin’.
Both King and X they got ridda’ both.
A story untold, true, but unknown.
Professor Griff knows…
“Yo, I ain’t milk toast!”
And..
And not the braggin’ or boastin’ and plus,
It ain’t no secret why they’re tappin’ my phone,
although I can’t keep it a secret,
So I decided to kick it, yo.
And yes it weighs a ton, I’ll say it once again,
I’m called the enemy - I’ll never be a friend,
Of those with closed minds, don’t know I’m rapid,
The way that I rap it,
Is makin’ ‘em tap it, yeah.
Never servin ‘em well, ’cause I’m an un-Tom.
It’s no secret at all.
Cause I’m louder than a bomb.

C’mon, C’mon.
Louder! Louder. (C’mon, C’mon…C’mon) (X6)
Louder! (C’mon Track Cut)

Professor Griff:
That’s right boy
The D is on the block, boy
Don’t forget it!
Kick that shit, D!
(It’s Yours)

Chuck D:
Cold holdin’ the load,
The burden breakin’ the mold.
I ain’t lyin’ denyin’, because they’re checkin’ my code.
Am I buggin’ ’cause they’re buggin’ my phone,
for information,
No tellin’ who’s sellin’ out or power buildin’ the nation so…
Joinin’ the set, the point blank target,
Every brothers inside - so least not, you forget, no.
Takin’ the blame is not a waste,
Here taste,
A bit of the song so you can never be wrong.
Just a bit of advice, ’cause we be payin’ the price,
‘Cause every brother mans life is like swingin’ the dice, right?
Here it is, once again
this is,
The brother to brother,
The Terminator, the cutter.
Goin’ on an’ on - leave alone the grown
Get it straight in ‘88, an’ I’ll troop it to demonstrate
The posse always ready,
98 at 98.
My posse come quick,
because my posse got velocity.
Tappin’ my phone,
Never leave me alone,
I’m even lethal when I’m un-armed.
‘Cause I’m louder than a bomb.

C’mon, C’mon.
Louder! Louder. (C’mon, C’mon…C’mon) (X7)

Professor Griff:
Tell ‘em what happened, D!
Prove ‘em, man
Go and prove ‘em, man
That’s right, go and prove ‘em, D
Show ‘em all what’s hot, D
Yeah.
Haha.
Tell ‘em how loud you is, D
They can’t mess with you, D
Yeah!
(All Right)

Chuck D:
‘Cause the D is for dangerous,
You can come and get some of this.
I teach and speak,
So when its spoke, it’s no joke.
The voice of choice,
The place shakes with bass,
Called one for the treble
The rhythm is the rebel
Here’s a funky rhyme that they’re tappin’ on.
Just thinkin’ I’m breakin’ the beats I’m rappin’ on.
CIA, FBI, all they tell us is lies.
When I say it they get alarmed.
‘Cause I’m louder than a bomb!

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