Lyrics:
was not her name
Kikisoblu was Chief See-ahth's daughter
She sat for photos, a dollar per frame
And wash sheets for a shack by the water
Such were her
a helicopter crashing in lava
Still sweeter to the ladies than a box of Godiva
Music industry is like a game of cops and robbers
Too many Indians, no chiefs
And a bitch by the name of America's on it
The same bitch that jacked my forefathers
And the Indians took my motherfucking religion
Place a holy Bible in my
Since Robespierre slaughtered half of France!
And Indian chiefs with their old beliefs know
The balance is undone, crazy ions
You can feel it out in
Strong
Great Spirit Is On Our Side!
One By One Fueled By Anger And Hate
We Marching To Our Final Strike!
Wounded Knee
Indian Graves
Wounded Knee
American
no hater, no, I'm not no Haitian
Cause I'm a chief in an Indian's world
Getting no girls, cause my mind is in a whirl
So when I get older I don't
Since Robespierre slaughtered half of France!
And Indian chiefs with their old beliefs know
The balance is undone, crazy ions
You can feel it out in
brother, in the wheel inside the wheel
Mardi Gras Indians chant in the streets at sundown
Spy boy meets spy boy, and big chief meets big chief uptown
They
supremacy
We've already known America's not our home
We're just citizens with no representation of our own
But we pay taxes, some as soldiers for the chief
to drift from the hood
For a second at least, I'm resurrecting the peace
Pipes that Indians used to light, we called it Chief, right?
Stepping
to
Swallow when everything controlled
By that all mighty dollar
We don't fear God in America
Okay the sun rise from the east
The west marked by the beast
As-salamu alaykum
Universal law governs all events
You got chosen ones out here
You got Indians, you got chiefs
you got mere mortals then you got
the boomin' system
I'd rather spend that loot on my engine
Oh, hail to the chief
I been one hell of an Indian
But settling in tepees ain't sitting'
Well with me
making them dance
Keep a blunt in my hand and
Two packs in my pants
You know the greener the bud
And the strength of the leaf
I’m the Indian chief
They
earthly
Thats when the savages start circling
I hear em scream out
Hiyiyay, hiyiyay
All hail the new chief
Rock eagle feathers
And we tough as Indian
be following
All these Indians around you shouldn't get acknowledgement
I'm a chief so I cheef it up that's my policy and I smoke
2 Blunts in
Look too many chiefs
Not enough Indians
I rather not beef
I rather be in the Caribbean
Rapping all these years
And You ain't got nothing left
your hands
Any resistance will leave you in a box and your wife in a coma
Fucking with a dead man, rider, soldier
Thou are in the system, Indian chief
"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone" [repeat in background]
Yeah, yeah
Too many Indians and no chiefs
I pull out the pistol when I pull no
Woodshed's nearly full up, might need another cord
Barn was feeling drafty, need to fix the broken boards
Winter's coming on
Winter's coming on
Indians in
Track 3 We Out Here By Souljah100
We Out Here By Souljah100
Hook
We out here grind'n all dat eurhbody gone eat I just want some
Indians eurhbody
the sea
Ain't no peace young cats rather beef
Not enough Indians everybody chiefs
In the city by the sea baby
Long Beach there never be no peace on the East
And railroads created by man
Belief can be a carcinogen
So is agnosticism
I don't pretend to have
Infinite wisdom over a rhythm
Eurasia drift
Water on other
or half the fifty chiefs :
tribe frozen into three camps : one
Lawyer : yes to the treaty : his land
not less : two Eagle from the Light :
war against
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