King Alfred

Should there at any time become a clear and present danger
Initiated by the radical elements threatening
The operation of the government of the United States of America
Members of this radical element
Shall be transported to detention centers
Until such time as their threat has been eliminated
Code King Alfred
Uh-huh, uh, uh, uh, uh
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy

Bring Obama back, tell 'em bring Obama back (back, back)
Got the Uzi and a cannon, where the drama at? (Grrat, grrat)
Oh, they askin' for a favor, where the commas at?
Uno, dos, tres, ayy, cuatro, cinco, seis, ayy

We shall overcome (ayy)
And if we don't, bitch, you better run (ayy)
They comin' with the sticks and the drums (ayy)
The money make the band sound great, buh-buh-buh-buh

What's your rate? (What's your rate?)
I'd rather do the flight than wear a cape (phew)
R.I.P. to STP the Great (R.I.P.)
SMG, we got it out the crate (SMG here)
Ring a bell and make a nigga late
Like, what it do, Bob?
This a warzone, send 'em to the gulag
They was talkin' shit, now they talk to 2Pac
Now they J.F.K. with the roof off

Like, we shall overcome (ayy)
And if we don't, bitch, you better run (ayy)
They comin' with the sticks and the drums (ayy)
The money make the band sound great, buh-buh-buh-buh

Ayy, she know I'm daddy, so she goin' to Baghdad
Like a militant, I make the lil' bitch calm down, I'm a Ritalin
Talk behind my back, but you actin' like you innocent
We no longer cool, why you actin' like we friends again?

When bass up, make a check hit
I buy commercial real estate, not a necklace
Someone throw a brick at my stepfather Lexus
11106, that's the address, bitch
Ayy, Bowie, Maryland, just to be exact
He stole my mama house, ain't no G in that
Countin' up my own money, now I'm free at last
Uno, dos, tres, ayy, cuatro, cinco, seis, ayy

We shall overcome (ayy)
And if we don't, bitch, you better run (ayy)
They comin' with the sticks and the drums (ayy)
The money make the band sound, shh

Bring Obama back, tell 'em bring Obama back (back, back)
Got the Uzi and a cannon, where the drama at? (Grrat, grrat)
Oh, they askin' for a favor, where the commas at?
Uno, dos, tres, ayy, cuatro, cinco, seis, ayy

Um, it's 1972, an election year
And, once again, black people are running
For their lives



Credits
Writer(s): Gil Scott-heron
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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