I'm playin' some music, a style you not fully control
It can't be trusted, in the music the ghetto youth had invested
When they come to you for help, damn, you've been neglected
And now you've got your thoughts to mount, Zion's so directed
You're jealous of Zeus because you swear the blessing had it
Woah, woah, now the judgement are reflected
Sorry, hypocrites and traitors are not accepted
What is it they're doing? What is it they're saying?