Heathens - Jehst, Bastien Keb

Still rock the Nuke Proof

I keep on rockin' in the free world

Doot-doola-doot-doo

It’s Feeding Time at the Zoo II

Q-Tip, the Last Zulu

I brought the Tribe through

Speak the truth like my hand’s on the Bible

Doing this 'til the Earth turn into a fireball

Clever words to incite a riot

But the crowd never heard—'cos the mic too quiet

They’ll probably turn it up for the headliner

Spread the butter

Drink a toast to the breadliner

The Umpire, I watch the game from a distance

The first one you wanna blame for all th wrong decisions

Became acquaintd with the concept of optimism

But soon forgot the wisdom

Because I didn’t have a pot to piss in

Or a window to throw it out of

A dead end street

If you figured you know about us

Until ends meet

The possibilities are boundless

Opportunities are rare

And the dice rolls without us

These slum lords must have thought we was born yesterday

These young boys must have thought we got nothing left to say

And all these non-believers who said Jesus couldn’t levitate

And all these other heathens

Tailor-made rhyme style

Wake 'n' bake lifestyle

Hood chicks look like Lady Pink in Wild Style

Avocado

Got the Charlie Brown profile

Smoke the Bob Marley 'til I start to sound docile

And forget where my keys at

Quick with the tree strapped

Quit, then I relapse

Like…

'Ah, shit!

Where the weed at?!'

Next episode

He’s back with the recap

Like Our Graham with the quick reminder

Lit the fire, got

Busy on the synthesiser

They always said he was the sickest rhymer

'Til he shaved his head

Like a Third Reich sympathiser

But he think like Malcolm X

Got the finished mixes

But he didn’t drop the album yet

The outcome

Of the numbers wasn’t adding up

Feeling like he had enough

Wanna duck to Magaluf

Lit a spliff bigger than a woolly mammoth tusk

I wonder why it seem like everybody mad at us

He might lose his mind and let the 'matic bust

Take it easy

Ken Kesey on the Magic Bus

With a bag of dust

To take the pain away

The dragon huff and he puff

And spit the flame again

I wrote this

On the front porch

On a rainy day

These slum lords must have thought we was born yesterday

These young boys must have thought we got nothing left to say

And all these non-believers who said Jesus couldn’t levitate

These slum lords must have thought we was born yesterday

These young boys must have thought we got nothing left to say

And all these non-believers who said Jesus couldn’t levitate

And all these other heathens