Rebel from the Underground Songtext / Lyric

Rebel, rebel, rebel
They just can't stand the reign
Or the occasional pain
Of a man like me who goes against the grain.
Sometimes I do it in vain
So wit the little bass and treble ain't missed a
So it's time for me to explain that I'm the rebel.
Cold as the devil.
Straight from the underground, the rebel alone laughs.
They came to see the maniac sychopath.
The critics heard of me and the aftermath.
I don't give a damn and it shows.
A when I do a stage show I wear street clothes.
So they all know me: the lyrical lunatic, the maniac MC.
I give a shout out to your homies.
Maybe then, the critics'll leave your boy alone, G.
On the streets or on TV, it just don't pay the be a truth tellin MC.
They won't be happy till I'm banned.
The most dangerous weapon: an educated black man.
For point blank in your face, pump up the bass, and join the human
race.
I throw peace to the Bay.
Cuz from the jungle to Oaktown, they backin me up all the way.
You know ya gotta love the sound.
It's from the rebel: the rebel of the underground.
He's the rebel: rebel of the underground
Now I'm face to face with the devil.
Cuz they breedin more rebels than the whole damn ghetto.
And police brutality,
Put you in a nip and call it technicality.
So you reap what you soe.
So read the wrath of the rebel jackin em up once more.
Now the fox is in the henhouse.
Creepin up on your daughter, while you asleep
I got her sneakin out.
BiG M ain't nuttin nice.
I'll be nothin how I wanna and do it when I'm gonna.
Now I'm up to no good.
The mastermind of mischief movin more than most could.
So sit and slip into the sound.
the rebel: the rebel of the underground.
He's the rebel: rebel of the underground
They say they hate me, they wanna hold me down.
I guess they scared of the rebel: the rebel of the underground.
But I never let it get me.
I just make another record 'bout the punks tryin to sweat me.
In fact, they tryin to keep me out.
Try to censor what I say cuz they don't like what I'm talkin 'bout.
So what's wrong with the media today.
Got brothers sellin out cuz they greedy to get paid.
But me, I'm comin from the soul.
And if it don't go gold, my story still get told.
And that way they can't stop me.
And if it sells a couple of copies, the punks'll try to copy.
It's sloppy, don't even try to.
I'm a slave to the rythm and I'm about to fly through.
Sold yo(ya-yo) to the people in the ghetto.
When ya hear the bass roll, go ahead and let go.
Now everybody wanna gangbang.
They talkin street slang, but the punk still can't hang.
By makin records bout violence
But when it comes to the real, some brothers go silent.
It kinda make you wanna think about
That ya gotta do some sellin out, just to get your record out.
But M 52 is straight down.
So feel the wrath of the rebel: the rebel of the underground.