Public Enemy

Public Enemy, also known as PE, is an influential hip hop group from Long Island, New York, known for its politically charged lyrics, criticism of the media, and active interest in the concerns of the African American community.

Developing his talents as an MC with Flavor Flav while delivering furniture for his father's business, Chuck D (Carlton Douglas Ridenhour) and Spectrum City, as the group was called, released the record "Check out the Radio," backed by "Lies," a social commentary—both of which would influence RUSH Productions' Run-D.M.C. and Beastie Boys. The group was signed to the still developing Def Jam Recordings record label after co-founder Rick Rubin heard Chuck D freestyling on a demo.



Public Enemy - Can't Truss It (1991)

Bass in your face
Not an eight track
Gettin' it good to the wood
So the people
Give you some a dat
Reactin' to the fax
That I kick and it stick
And it stay around
Pointin' to the joint, put the Buddha down
Goin', goin', gettin' to the roots
Ain't givin' it up
So turn me loose
But then again I got a story
That's harder than the hardcore
Cost of the holocaust
I'm talin' 'bout the one still goin' on
I know
Where I'm from, not dum diddie dum
From the base motherland
The place of the drum
Invaded by the wack diddie wack
Fooled the black, left us faded
King and chief probably had a big beef
Because of dat now I grit my teeth
So here's a song to the strong
'Bout a shake of a snake
And the smile went along wit dat
Can't truss it
Kickin' wicked rhymes
Like a fortune teller
'Cause the wickedness done by Jack
Where everybody at
Divided and sold
For liquor and the gold
Smacked in the back
For the other man to mack
Now the story that I'm kickin' is gory
Little Rock where they be
Dockin' this boat
No hope I'm shackled
Plus gang tackled
By the other hand swingin' the rope
Wearin' red, white and blue Jack and his crew
The guy's authorized beat down for the brown
Man to the man, each one so it teach one
Born to terrorize sisters and every brother
One love who said it
I know Whodini sang it
But the hater taught hate
That's why we gang bang it
Beware of the hand
When it's comin' from the left
I ain't trippin' just watch ya step
Can't truss it
An I judge everyone, one by the one
Look here come the judge
Watch it here he come now
I can only guess what's happ'nin'
Years ago he woulda been
The ships captain
Gettin' me bruised on a cruise
What I got to lose, lost all contact
Got me layin' on my back
Rollin' in my own leftover
When I roll over, I roll over in somebody else's
90 F--kin' days on a slave ship
Count 'em fallin' off 2, 3, 4 hun'ed at a time
Blood in the wood and it's mine
I'm chokin' on spit feelin' pain
Like my brain bein' chained
Still gotta give it what I got
But it's hot in the day, cold in the night
But I thrive to survive, I pray to god to stay alive
Attitude boils up inside
And that ain't it (think I'll every quit)
Still I pray to get my hands 'round
The neck of the man wit' the whip
3 months pass, they brand a label on my ass
To signify
Owned
I'm on the microphone
Sayin' 1555
How I'm livin'
We been livin' here
Livin' ain't the word
I been givin'
Haven't got
Classify us in the have-nots
Fightin' haves
'Cause it's all about money
When it comes to Armageddon
Mean I'm getting mine
Here I am turn it over Sam
427 to the year
Do you understand
That's why it's hard
For the black to love the land
Once again
Bass in your face
Not an eight track
Gettin' it good to the wood
So the people
Give you some a dat
Reactin' to the fax
That I kick and it stick
And it stay around
Pointin' to the joint, put the Buddha down
Goin', goin', gettin' to the roots
Ain't givin' it up
So turn me loose
But then again I got a story
That's harder than the hardcore
Cost of the holocaust
I'm talin' 'bout the one still goin' on
I know
Where I'm from, not dum diddie dum
From the base motherland
The place of the drum
Invaded by the wack diddie wack
Fooled the black, left us faded
King and chief probably had a big beef
Because of dat now I grit my teeth
So here's a song to the strong
'Bout a shake of a snake
And the smile went along wit dat
Can't truss it

Well done, Fede. It's great to have information about the bands and singers that we listen and watch here. Go on.

public enemy- he got game

If man is the father of the son
Is the center of the earth
In the middle of the universe
Why is this verse comin
Six times rehearsed
Don’t freestyle much so
I write em like such
Amongst the fiends
Controlled by the screens
What does it all mean
All this shit I’m seein
Human beings scream vocal javelins
Signs of a local nigga unravelin
My wandering
Got my ass wondering
Where christ is
In all this crisis
Hatin satan
Never knew what nice is
Check the papers
While I bet on isis
More than your eye can see
And ears can here
Year by year
All the sense disappears
Nonsense perseveres
Prayers laced wit fear
Beware
2 triple 0 is near

Damn was it somethin I said
Pretend you don’t see
So you turn your head
Race scared of it’s shadow
Does it matter?
Thought areparations
Got em playin wit the population
Nothing to lose
Everythings approved
People used
Even murders excused
White men in suits
Don’t have to jump
Still theres 1001 ways
To lose wit the shoes
God takes care of ol folks and fools
While the devil takes care
Of makin the rules
Folks don’t even own themselves
Payin mental rent
To corporate president
1 outta 1 million residents
Be a dissident
Who ain’t kissin it
The politics of chains and whips
Got the sick
Missin chips and championships
What’s love got to do
Wit what you got
Don’t let a win get to your head
Or a loss to your heart
Nonsense perseveres
Prayers heed wit fear
Beware
2 triple o is near

It might feel good
Sound a lil somethin
Damn the game
If it don’t mean nuttin
What is game who got game
Where’s the game
In life
Behind the game
Behind the game
I got game
She got game
We got game
They got game
He got game
That millenium
Just be killin em
Scary
Like lies buried in the library
When did a state pen
Correct anything
When piles of us
Still be catchin the bus
When stacks of cats
Packin laundry mats
Paid the preachers back
But where the teachers at?
I ain’t even gotta ask it
As who’s underpaid and
Fouled at the basket
I can’t blame the envy
At who gettin the benjis
And takin grants for granted
Last I checked pyramids
Wasn’t built like projects
Or on government checks
Modern day thugs
Ain’t got no guts
Pardon the expression
Under governor nuts
Last time in a church
Be the last time in a church
Dead pledged alliance
To many cd’s and movies
Leaving reality
Believing fantasy
Bleedin fatalities
Too many formalities
Prayers laced wit fear
Beware
2 triple o is here

This song is a classic of the rap music, thank you Lucas.