Saul Williams
Scared Money
Scared money don't make none (x4)

Callin' haves and have nots
Every cell on the block
Every n***a with a trigger, empty barreled or cocked
March in like parade of scars if you been stabbed or shot
Son, we smokin' these batons right in front of these cops
Callin' out to the kids, all my n***as with bids
Whether suited up or booted up or stuck in the mid
You can download it or boot it up, my pupils unlid
All my students of the underground with record store gigs
Callin' out to the girls, the inventors of worlds
The intelligence of relevance and elegant pearls
Pour like nectar from the lotus big bang opus in swirls
Down the sweaty backs of hairyweave tracks and dried jheri curls
Callin' out to the pimps hat cocked slump with your gimp
On your wrist with just a twist of lime to go with that limp
Hold your cup up so this ancient rain can find its way in
Let these n***as know the cost of reaching heavenly bliss, yes

Scared money don't make none (x4)

Scared money don't make none (x4)

It was all a dream, I used to fantasize I was Malcolm
Or Martin in the pulpit, the ballot or the bullet
I swear I used to pray to change back the year
When n***as spoke of motherships with space helmets for hair
Well, now what have we here? Thugs and poets, ah yeah
What we seem to have in common is we're common as air
Yes, the lowest rung of anthems sung each day every year
From cheque cashing to latest fashions, while they ration out fear
But I'm fearless, sometimes I feel alone, homeless, peerless
What will it take to shake the land for everyone to hear this?
I can't bear this, born of pages torn from ancient prayer lists
Descendant of the womb, the lotus blooms when I come near it
I declare it, time to realign karat to carrot
What was olden remains golden sceptered tongue I dare to share it
All who hear it know at once, royal highness over blunts
Thug of thugs, pimp of pimps, golden tongue and ivory fronts
Grind and hustle, n***as know the heart is just a muscle
All payments due, you made some papes I wrote upon I trust you will invest
'Cause chances are the game is just a test
Professor of the truth talk real truth emeritus
I am the king, as I command my son to dance and sing
We celebrate our earthly fate, my daughter gives me wings
We are one, descendants of the mothership and tongue
Southern trees have born strange fruit, hail, salute a troop well hung