Nappy Heads Songtext
von Fugees

Why am I trapped in a cage?
(The nappy heads are comin′ out)
Barber can I get a fade?
(The nappy heads are comin' out)
Teacher teacher check my grades
(The nappy heads are comin′ out)
I grab the mic in a rage!

You maintain to put a negro in pain, you used to diss me
You sure you wanna hang with old Eddie Kane
Ain't nuttin' wrong, so snap your head to the song
Word is bond, you get wrong, I′ll have you sing like Louis Armstrong
And I say to myself, what a wonderful world

But what the fuck was so wonderful ′bout pickin cotton, on a farm?
The harder they come, the harder they fall, so come one come all
Don't stall or I′ma stick you like a voodoo doll
Doors locked stop draw for the count, who drops?
Ten-nine-eight-seven-six-five-four-three-two-one
You-slept-on-a-kid-from-the-boondocks


Out of Hooterville land of the ill kill
Bellsburg Viking so you know I'm top ranking Phil
Some say newcomer like the yuma but save the rumor
′Cause I've been rockin ever since ′83
When I used to rock my Pumas
Rap, narcotic psychotic so hear the sentencin'
One out of ten, I'm passin′ the mic next time I′ll get wicked
Heard the man who went before, got intimidated
You tried to gas me up, too much gas, you got intoxicated
You wasn't ready for the real′n, dealin', chillin′
Wyclef, no competition when I'm bringin′ pure death
I'm jumpin like a monkey to get mines off
A-from a caterpillar, to the mic moth

(The nappy heads are comin' out)
Teacher teacher check my grades
(The nappy heads are comin′ out)
I coulda sworn I had an A
(The nappy heads are comin′ out)
I grab the mic in a rage!

You put, one and one together now you think you a rapper
Baseball cap backward, forearms swingin' like a hip-hopper
You do the rhyme, thinkin′ no one can stop ya
I be the followin' that chop ya down as I clock ya, hah
When I say five-oh, I mean fifty not guns or cops
Now here′s the heavyweight knocker, the freedom fighter
Natural rhythm rock a mic I always rhyme I'm never drinkin vodka
Any old style, I throw it in a locker

Well I′m a cool chief rocka, I never drank no vodka
Me got no bag of cheeba 'cause I never had a knocker
My cousin's name was Shaka, for short we called him ′Aka
I flip it on wack MC′s because to me they flow like caca


You boogie move the groove, nothing to prove you lose
Your style remind me of yesterday, old news
Sad sung blues who's, chose the one to feel the pain
Or bring the cane, tick-tock I come to pick your lock
It′s not a capital gain
So watch out for the remain, or cry from bloodstain
Bustin' nuts, bustin′ style
Gettin' buckwild some think I′m the descendant of a wilder child
Comin' on the mic, from a higher level
Broke is no joke choke the hell out of the devil

(The nappy heads are comin' out)
What about Martin?
(The nappy heads are comin′ out)
What about Malcolm?
(The nappy heads are comin′ out)
Rosa Parks?
(The nappy heads are comin' out)
You hung a man after dark
(The nappy heads are comin′ out)
Cease the violence
(The nappy heads are comin' out)

Yo who got the power, to make a man raise from the dead?
Some said that it was Jesus, they said he was a notty dread
But I don′t mean to confuse a world that's confused
Mind′s atomic, so like a bomb, let me drop it
Can't get too deep, 'cause some sleep while I wake
In a dream that′s made of wine but let me bring it back to grapes
Teacher, explain the parable, it′s simple
It's easier for the camel to go through the eye of a needle
Than for you to enter the kingdom, or battle
And walk away, with the title when I get, brutal
Feelings are mutual so sign your life, to Prudential
Don′t even flinch, the other becomin' spiritual
There′s six million ways to die but choose four
'Cause I can still be in the desert buttnaked and be hardcore!

When I say checks that means pump your fist
Remember Moses people, this is Exodus
Don′t try to stop this, the force comes from Genesis
Them who did us wrong, ask the Lord for forgiveness
The land that I'm from ain't the land of the dumb
We droppin′ the bass drum, then we put your heads on a tombstone
You can′t kill the battle with a horn, blam blam, silly Joshua
So march to St. Lawrence
Yo march I got your back, march!

Crown Heights
(The nappy heads are comin' out)
Cease the violence
(The nappy heads are comin′ out)
A moment of silence
(The nappy heads are comin' out)
For those who died
(The nappy heads are comin′ out)
Public Enemy
(The nappy heads are comin' out)
Number one
(The nappy heads are comin′ out)
Frederick Douglass
(The nappy heads are comin' out)
Harriet Tubman
(The nappy heads are comin' out)
Aristide
(The nappy heads are comin′ out)
Bob Marley
(The nappy heads are comin′ out)
Prazwell
(The nappy heads are comin' out)
To my man Khalid
(The nappy heads are comin′ out)

Now, speak of resistance, we're nappy heads
Rhymes, kinks, braids and dreads
The mother of creation, epitome of creativity, yeah
And keep your heads nappy