Letra de ' Clap ' de Pharoahe Monch

Clap! clap on, clap off, clap Adam and I do not need applause
Rap nicer than Santa with no clause
Trapped twice bananas with no chorus
Yeah, it's suicide, murder
In the hood like catalitic converters on the block like lego on the streets like street like
3 little pigs is what I be on these beats like
In other words the police, say it, say it like pop the police, fuck them
And that's straight from the underground
Where little kids got it bad cause we're brown
Now who am I? P. Monch, do or die nuh
South suicide Queens where I get down
I peep surveillance in the streets every summer
You may not play lotto but you know these numbers
The 105th, the 103rd, my people in Queens going 13 if we get the urge to get on some ?
My brain's a glock clip, My lane's be on some 800 cops shot shit

[Chorus]:
Say when we gonna, say when we gonna get it together? yeah
One day, one day, one day, one day, we gonna clap, yeah

We went from niggas to porch monkeys ,to negros, to blacks, back to niggas again
Yet the nigga's is still hungry
Abolish the "N" word, the plan so corny
While homelands security cams are all on me

They watch through the fibre optics
And it dawned told me that cops can just run in your spot quick without warning
They educate the mass to follow is so boring
I sat in the back of the class and sleep snoring
And they ask me why I'm vocal and animate
Cause I lost my focus like Governor Pattison
In the ghetto, where is impossible to escape and the first obstacle was the tapeworm in my abdomen
Spit chuck of fuck that, I toss javelins and 5 thousand dollar bills in the face of James Madison
This isn't American post mortem, to focus on your bogus, Novus Ordo Seclorum, clap!

[Chorus]

No respect, and no manners, it's Mad Max with multiple Max mad banana clips.
The black hammer hits the back of a black talent
Slew a hollow tips hit the wall of your blue salad
And selective theatrics and selected dramatics
I'm systematically pissed, clap automatics for me and Abu Jamal
Maybe I'm ? peace are fanatics for peace, but ain't got a pacifist
(The gospel, I) spit it like Jesus of Nazareth and in frantic we clap
At any obstacle, an impossible feat, the fathom is not logical
But chronicle the thoughts of the people cause one day we gonna CLAP!