This song is written as the perspective of the boys in the street, as a whole, and what path they are going to choose as they get older and grow into men. (This is why the music video takes place in an orphanage.) The seen, and unseen collective suffering is imbedded in the boys’ mind, consciously or subconsciously, and is haunting them. Which path will the boys choose? Issac Hayes is the voice of reason, maybe God, the angel on his shoulder, or the voice of his forefathers from beyond the grave who can see the big picture and are pleading with the boys not to continue the violence and pattern of killing their brothers, but to rise above. The most beautiful song and has so many levels. Racism towards African Americans in America would not exist if everyone sat down and listened to this song and understood the history behind the words. The power, fear, pleading in RZA and Ghostface voices are genuine and powerful. Issac Hayes’ strong voice makes the perfect strong father figure, who is possibly from beyond the grave.
Of course you know what a fuse is...
It's a long piece of cord impregnated with gun powder
When you strike a match and light it
It burns, fitfully, spiraling to it's end
At which there is, a little surprise
Krypton, short suit MCs you'll be ripped on
You fell off and it's my lyric sheet just slipped on
Get gone, spit on mic's made in Hong Kong
Rock on, sing songs mightier than King King
A Donkey, you think you want me or want this
Want some, hold your reputation for Ransom
With these here, handsomely crafted tactics
To break a snake and see like a cheap prophylactic
Galactic, space now yeah that grabs attention
Crackheads nodded like a pest can't even mention
Right a pat traps gas tracks in sections
Kid steps this he need witness protection
Trying to see while I
If you see it
I'll be here (2x)
It was the junkyard crooked letter C-I-entific
Duck us, the ruckus I'll bring stings your eardrum
Hear one, lalala loose friend me fearsome
Opposing troops on my home front shall be gone
Testing the eight-hundred, eighteenth battalion
Shallow the one who's run like rebels
Enola gay rhymes kicked the notch up a level
In intensity, send back the tax that you sent to me
Blow up your spot with grenades that were meant for me
MP3 versus R33 MCs, Swiss change your gear putting shrapnel in the breeze
We're MCs with enemy companies with my hand full of lyrics talking 'bout you want these
Please, don't even speak the name of channels and low gadget mic shit put it down like pens
For my friends and my fame let them dodge it around this mic shot through the back of an MCs hand
With the strength that he had a bridge you don't want that close body fields in hand to hand combat
Battle cats, it's like the sectional speech warfare words slash cords
Come deford shots get rid don't question my intention when your butt gets kicked
Trying to see while I
If you see it
I'll be here
Tech broke italic syllabalic attacks
Trying to see while I
If you see it
I'll be here
You want these MCs lyrically back smacks
Why wait, I didn't look down myself (8x)
Trying to see while I
If you see it
I'll be here
Tech broke italic syllabalic attacks
Trying to see while I
If you see it
I'll be here
You want these MCs lyrically back smacks
It's a long piece of cord impregnated with gun powder
When you strike a match and light it
It burns, fitfully, spiraling to it's end
At which there is, a little surprise
Krypton, short suit MCs you'll be ripped on
You fell off and it's my lyric sheet just slipped on
Get gone, spit on mic's made in Hong Kong
Rock on, sing songs mightier than King King
A Donkey, you think you want me or want this
Want some, hold your reputation for Ransom
With these here, handsomely crafted tactics
To break a snake and see like a cheap prophylactic
Galactic, space now yeah that grabs attention
Crackheads nodded like a pest can't even mention
Right a pat traps gas tracks in sections
Kid steps this he need witness protection
Trying to see while I
If you see it
I'll be here (2x)
It was the junkyard crooked letter C-I-entific
Duck us, the ruckus I'll bring stings your eardrum
Hear one, lalala loose friend me fearsome
Opposing troops on my home front shall be gone
Testing the eight-hundred, eighteenth battalion
Shallow the one who's run like rebels
Enola gay rhymes kicked the notch up a level
In intensity, send back the tax that you sent to me
Blow up your spot with grenades that were meant for me
MP3 versus R33 MCs, Swiss change your gear putting shrapnel in the breeze
We're MCs with enemy companies with my hand full of lyrics talking 'bout you want these
Please, don't even speak the name of channels and low gadget mic shit put it down like pens
For my friends and my fame let them dodge it around this mic shot through the back of an MCs hand
With the strength that he had a bridge you don't want that close body fields in hand to hand combat
Battle cats, it's like the sectional speech warfare words slash cords
Come deford shots get rid don't question my intention when your butt gets kicked
Trying to see while I
If you see it
I'll be here
Tech broke italic syllabalic attacks
Trying to see while I
If you see it
I'll be here
You want these MCs lyrically back smacks
Why wait, I didn't look down myself (8x)
Trying to see while I
If you see it
I'll be here
Tech broke italic syllabalic attacks
Trying to see while I
If you see it
I'll be here
You want these MCs lyrically back smacks
Lyrics submitted by csreech
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yay words for fuse :):):)