verse 1
The Black falling down, it's goin down
No subject matter, I don't hear it goin around
Minds over matter, they don't mind cause
We don't matter, DJ Lord's on the platter
Can't shake this, the gott-damn matrix
Got actors winning politics, the tricks
Got hot chicks in the back of
of wack ass rap flicks
Called videos (hoooo)
Turn off the got-damn radio
Cause they don't show yall
what yall need to know
Can't fade it though, Lord don't fade it yo
Year of the Lord, make love fuck war tour
After before 2004, I swore
Dj Lord come bust down the door
Los Angel-less, New Jack Pity
They say fuck the sticks cause they be the city
Homeless sitting outside smellin shitty
Thanks for not giving a got-damn thing pretty
So called land of plenty, can't spare a penny
It's the have nots against the haves,
Is you wit me?

Check What You Listening To

Verse 2:
You might be cuttin tracks
But he's cuttin edge
The sword of Lord high like Phil Upchurch
Through the verse, the truth hurts
From the aftermath of that sonic autograph
Lord, don't make him mad
So I spit, how loud you want it to get? Cold sweat.
2005 flicks, new trips through dirty beats
Hits and all those bass kicks
Lookout yall,
Cmon, can't forget to kick this
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/8isFIf the shoe fits get with the ramblin wreck
Check it, to stomp out
All dem nitwits Chuck D stylin
Don't you know where ?
On the new Buckwhylin
Cross the Land, cause the band
Hits the fans, watch them all SLAM the jam
Yes they can can, beware the man
Take a stand yall, wreck the plan

Check What You Listening To

Verse 3:
One foot stuck in the rave
Millennium dance craze
Cross fade to the new phase
Like the old days, twisted
in convoluted systems
Existed in the beats of wisdom existance
Cross the Land, cause the band
Hits the fans, watch them all SLAM the jam
Illegal beats, frisk him
Find not a pop thing with him
Multi-ethnic like a prism
Can't hear this?
You in audio prison
Hands be whizzin, cross the wax
Movin tracks from across the tracks
Through your mind he attacks, DJ Lord.
Scratch the gospel, tell them wack ass beats
They can go to hell, 'ding'
The rave bell
See the crowd swell, got even
when the needle fell
Still heard them cuts over the yell!
Through the verse, the truth hurts
From the aftermath of that sonic autograph
Mr Chuck, Dj Lord attack the tracks
Yall CHECK WHAT YOU LISTENING TO....