Saul Williams - Telegram lyrics

I'm falling up flights of stairs Scraping myself from the sidewalk Jumping from rivers to bridges Drowning in pure air Hip Hop is lying on the side of the road half dead to itself Blood scrawled over its mangled flesh like jazz Stuffed into an oversized record bag Tuba lips swollen beyond recognition Diamond studded teeth strewn like rice at karma's wedding The ring bearer bore bad news Minister of information wrote the wrong proclamation And now everyone's singing the wrong song Dissonant chords find necks like nooses That n***a kicked the chair from under my feet Harlem shaking from a rope, but still on beat Damn, that loop is tight That n***a found a way to sample the way, the truth, the light Can't wait to play myself at the party tonight n***as are gonna die Cop car swerves to the side of the road Hip Hop takes its last breath The cop scrawls vernacular manslaughter onto a yellow pad Then balls the paper into his hand Deciding he'd rather free-style You have the right to remain silent You have the right to remain silent And maybe you should have, maybe you should have Before your bullsh** manifested These thugs can't f** with me They're too thugged out n***as think I'm bugged out 'Cause I ain't Sean John or Lugged out This ain't hip hop no more, son It's bigger than that This ain't ghetto no more, black It's bigger than black So where my aliens at? Girl, we're all illegal This system ain't for us It's for rich people And you ain't rich, dawg You just got money But you can't buy sh** To not get hungry Telegram to Hip Hop: Dear Hip Hop, stop This sh** has gone too far, stop Please see that turntables and mixer are returned to Kool Herc, stop The ghettos are dancing off beat, stop The master of ceremonies have forgotten that they were once slaves And have neglected the occasion of this ceremony, stop Perhaps we should not have encouraged them to use cordless microphones for they have walked too far from the source and are emitting a lesser frequency, stop Please inform all interested parties that cash nor murder have been included to the list of elements, stop We are discontinuing our line of braggadocio, in light of the current trend in "realness", stop As an alternative, we will be confiscating weed supplies, replacing them with magic mushrooms In hopes of helping n***as see beyond their reality, stop Give my regards to Brooklyn These thugs can't f** with me They're too thugged out n***as think I'm bugged out 'Cause I ain't Sean John or Lugged out This ain't hip hop no more, son It's bigger than that This ain't ghetto no more, black It's bigger than black So where my aliens at? Girl, we're all illegal This system ain't for us It's for rich people And you ain't rich, dawg You just got money But you can't buy sh** To not get hungry These cats can't f** with me I purr purple Sewed in crease Too shelled like a turtle I walk the streets Like the lie that I'm telling One listener grips his knee And starts yelling I see through speakers I speak what's seen I eat and sh** I sleep and dream I walk the streets of London Like, "Know what I mean?" And chill in Wagamama's eating crisp soy beans It's like that