[{"id":23135744,"name":"Mayday!","trackName":"Mayday!","artistName":"Black Market Militia","albumName":"Black Market Militia","duration":217.99505,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Intro: Hell Razah)\nFear the evil music, Renaissance Child\nYeah, Black Market, yea, Black Market Militia\nWe gon' talk to the ghettos, Hell Razah\nAll my niggaz in the projects, Will Cooper\nBlood on the walls, yeah, yeah\nAnd it breaths so shit, real deep, yea\nBlack Market Militia, roll with this\nAin't fuckin' wit us, yo, yo\n\n(Hell Razah)\nWelfare, got a respect for my moms\nI found out, George Bush was the same as Saddam\nI'm a digital bomb, downloaded on the CD-ROM\nBefore Muhammed and the Holy Qu'ran, an Egyptian God\nAbraham, saught the science of Brahm\nBreath of life, education of Christ, gave Satan his life\nHe bought souls when they came with a price\nI got the dice, rollin' three sixes, blowin' widow kisses\nKeep wizes, readin' Hebrew scriptures\nEach gun go a longer distance, to get ya\nI develop, so the seller get the bigger picture\nRon O'Neal, superfly without no deal\nI'm Shaquille, when it comes down to lyrical skills\nMaccabee be a seed of Israel\nWhat I can't eat in a mill, I guess, I'mma leave in my will\nSet fire to America's flag, and the President mad\nI raise the states, like the price of gas\n\n(Chorus - 2X):\n(Hell Razah)\nWe try'nna save up for AK's\nHaving helicopter niggaz screamin' \"Mayday!\"\nThis is Black Market Military, don't play\nAin't no comin' at my family, the wrong way, aye\n\n(Hell Razah)\nChild support, disrespectin' my pops, it's fucked up\nWhen ya man breakin' bread with the cops\nThey love talkin' alot, so we send they heads back in a box\nThis for Ray Charles and Red Foxxx, let off a shot\nAnd all the brothers in the prison cells, livin' in hell\nIt's dawn of the dead, we born here, to war with the feds\nLead the snakes to the edge, watch it fall of the ledge\nIt ain't over til we kill 'em, and oil they eggs\nProbably kicked down the White House door\nCuz they wipe out poor, people that's homeless\nWho life like lost, while the rich get richer, the poor get poorer\nSo we run a menage, on both Bush's daughters\nAnd show 'em all the riches that his twin sisters bought us\nThat made a World Trade, when they slept with a slave\nThe same ones that got AIDS, that sickness ya'll made\nThe resurrected Nat Turner's, back from the grave\n\n(Tragedy Khadafi)\nWhen I write, the angels cry, tears fall out of the sky\nHit the earth, take human form and fly\nProphets and messengers, rise out of they graves\nMy enemies'll treat, four legged beasts, back to the cage\nMountains of Caucus, I'm just dealin' with higher forces\nSatellite's take flight when I'm swervin', bulletproof porsches\nThe first dynasty was that of Egyptian's\nBefore commandments, my name was written in golden scriptures\nWhen I spit, it's like bare witness to Allah Chikis Sahatta\nNat Turner burner, soul of a rider\nIt's like me and you subtracted from two, last one left\nRight over left, when cowards die, thousands of death\nLet the revolution start, where's your heart, let ya heat pop\nFeel the lost cause of Afeni, when she lost Pac\nBetty Shabazz, the slugs tore Malcolm's chest and he drop\nAudobon building, might get murdered, what I'm revealing\nCinematic like Michael Moore, Fahrenheit 9/11\nMac-11 flamin', the president's head til it severed\n\n(Outro: Killah Priest)\nMay day, may day, I report from the hood\nBlack Market, I report from the hood, Black Market","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Mayday!\n  artist: Black Market Militia\n  album: Black Market Militia\n  duration_ms: 217995\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (Intro: Hell Razah)\n  Fear the evil music, Renaissance Child\n  Yeah, Black Market, yea, Black Market Militia\n  We gon' talk to the ghettos, Hell Razah\n  All my niggaz in the projects, Will Cooper\n  Blood on the walls, yeah, yeah\n  And it breaths so shit, real deep, yea\n  Black Market Militia, roll with this\n  Ain't fuckin' wit us, yo, yo\n\n  (Hell Razah)\n  Welfare, got a respect for my moms\n  I found out, George Bush was the same as Saddam\n  I'm a digital bomb, downloaded on the CD-ROM\n  Before Muhammed and the Holy Qu'ran, an Egyptian God\n  Abraham, saught the science of Brahm\n  Breath of life, education of Christ, gave Satan his life\n  He bought souls when they came with a price\n  I got the dice, rollin' three sixes, blowin' widow kisses\n  Keep wizes, readin' Hebrew scriptures\n  Each gun go a longer distance, to get ya\n  I develop, so the seller get the bigger picture\n  Ron O'Neal, superfly without no deal\n  I'm Shaquille, when it comes down to lyrical skills\n  Maccabee be a seed of Israel\n  What I can't eat in a mill, I guess, I'mma leave in my will\n  Set fire to America's flag, and the President mad\n  I raise the states, like the price of gas\n\n  (Chorus - 2X):\n  (Hell Razah)\n  We try'nna save up for AK's\n  Having helicopter niggaz screamin' \"Mayday!\"\n  This is Black Market Military, don't play\n  Ain't no comin' at my family, the wrong way, aye\n\n  (Hell Razah)\n  Child support, disrespectin' my pops, it's fucked up\n  When ya man breakin' bread with the cops\n  They love talkin' alot, so we send they heads back in a box\n  This for Ray Charles and Red Foxxx, let off a shot\n  And all the brothers in the prison cells, livin' in hell\n  It's dawn of the dead, we born here, to war with the feds\n  Lead the snakes to the edge, watch it fall of the ledge\n  It ain't over til we kill 'em, and oil they eggs\n  Probably kicked down the White House door\n  Cuz they wipe out poor, people that's homeless\n  Who life like lost, while the rich get richer, the poor get poorer\n  So we run a menage, on both Bush's daughters\n  And show 'em all the riches that his twin sisters bought us\n  That made a World Trade, when they slept with a slave\n  The same ones that got AIDS, that sickness ya'll made\n  The resurrected Nat Turner's, back from the grave\n\n  (Tragedy Khadafi)\n  When I write, the angels cry, tears fall out of the sky\n  Hit the earth, take human form and fly\n  Prophets and messengers, rise out of they graves\n  My enemies'll treat, four legged beasts, back to the cage\n  Mountains of Caucus, I'm just dealin' with higher forces\n  Satellite's take flight when I'm swervin', bulletproof porsches\n  The first dynasty was that of Egyptian's\n  Before commandments, my name was written in golden scriptures\n  When I spit, it's like bare witness to Allah Chikis Sahatta\n  Nat Turner burner, soul of a rider\n  It's like me and you subtracted from two, last one left\n  Right over left, when cowards die, thousands of death\n  Let the revolution start, where's your heart, let ya heat pop\n  Feel the lost cause of Afeni, when she lost Pac\n  Betty Shabazz, the slugs tore Malcolm's chest and he drop\n  Audobon building, might get murdered, what I'm revealing\n  Cinematic like Michael Moore, Fahrenheit 9/11\n  Mac-11 flamin', the president's head til it severed\n\n  (Outro: Killah Priest)\n  May day, may day, I report from the hood\n  Black Market, I report from the hood, Black Market\n"},{"id":31393230,"name":"Mayday!","trackName":"Mayday!","artistName":"Black Market Militia","albumName":"The Black Market Militia","duration":218.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Intro: Hell Razah)\nFear the evil music, Renaissance Child\nYeah, Black Market, yea, Black Market Militia\nWe gon' talk to the ghettos, Hell Razah\nAll my niggaz in the projects, Will Cooper\nBlood on the walls, yeah, yeah\nAnd it breaths so shit, real deep, yea\nBlack Market Militia, roll with this\nAin't fuckin' wit us, yo, yo\n\n(Hell Razah)\nWelfare, got a respect for my moms\nI found out, George Bush was the same as Saddam\nI'm a digital bomb, downloaded on the CD-ROM\nBefore Muhammed and the Holy Qu'ran, an Egyptian God\nAbraham, saught the science of Brahm\nBreath of life, education of Christ, gave Satan his life\nHe bought souls when they came with a price\nI got the dice, rollin' three sixes, blowin' widow kisses\nKeep wizes, readin' Hebrew scriptures\nEach gun go a longer distance, to get ya\nI develop, so the seller get the bigger picture\nRon O'Neal, superfly without no deal\nI'm Shaquille, when it comes down to lyrical skills\nMaccabee be a seed of Israel\nWhat I can't eat in a mill, I guess, I'mma leave in my will\nSet fire to America's flag, and the President mad\nI raise the states, like the price of gas\n\n(Chorus - 2X):\n(Hell Razah)\nWe try'nna save up for AK's\nHaving helicopter niggaz screamin' \"Mayday!\"\nThis is Black Market Military, don't play\nAin't no comin' at my family, the wrong way, aye\n\n(Hell Razah)\nChild support, disrespectin' my pops, it's fucked up\nWhen ya man breakin' bread with the cops\nThey love talkin' alot, so we send they heads back in a box\nThis for Ray Charles and Red Foxxx, let off a shot\nAnd all the brothers in the prison cells, livin' in hell\nIt's dawn of the dead, we born here, to war with the feds\nLead the snakes to the edge, watch it fall of the ledge\nIt ain't over til we kill 'em, and oil they eggs\nProbably kicked down the White House door\nCuz they wipe out poor, people that's homeless\nWho life like lost, while the rich get richer, the poor get poorer\nSo we run a menage, on both Bush's daughters\nAnd show 'em all the riches that his twin sisters bought us\nThat made a World Trade, when they slept with a slave\nThe same ones that got AIDS, that sickness ya'll made\nThe resurrected Nat Turner's, back from the grave\n\n(Tragedy Khadafi)\nWhen I write, the angels cry, tears fall out of the sky\nHit the earth, take human form and fly\nProphets and messengers, rise out of they graves\nMy enemies'll treat, four legged beasts, back to the cage\nMountains of Caucus, I'm just dealin' with higher forces\nSatellite's take flight when I'm swervin', bulletproof porsches\nThe first dynasty was that of Egyptian's\nBefore commandments, my name was written in golden scriptures\nWhen I spit, it's like bare witness to Allah Chikis Sahatta\nNat Turner burner, soul of a rider\nIt's like me and you subtracted from two, last one left\nRight over left, when cowards die, thousands of death\nLet the revolution start, where's your heart, let ya heat pop\nFeel the lost cause of Afeni, when she lost Pac\nBetty Shabazz, the slugs tore Malcolm's chest and he drop\nAudobon building, might get murdered, what I'm revealing\nCinematic like Michael Moore, Fahrenheit 9/11\nMac-11 flamin', the president's head til it severed\n\n(Outro: Killah Priest)\nMay day, may day, I report from the hood\nBlack Market, I report from the hood, Black Market","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Mayday!\n  artist: Black Market Militia\n  album: The Black Market Militia\n  duration_ms: 218000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (Intro: Hell Razah)\n  Fear the evil music, Renaissance Child\n  Yeah, Black Market, yea, Black Market Militia\n  We gon' talk to the ghettos, Hell Razah\n  All my niggaz in the projects, Will Cooper\n  Blood on the walls, yeah, yeah\n  And it breaths so shit, real deep, yea\n  Black Market Militia, roll with this\n  Ain't fuckin' wit us, yo, yo\n\n  (Hell Razah)\n  Welfare, got a respect for my moms\n  I found out, George Bush was the same as Saddam\n  I'm a digital bomb, downloaded on the CD-ROM\n  Before Muhammed and the Holy Qu'ran, an Egyptian God\n  Abraham, saught the science of Brahm\n  Breath of life, education of Christ, gave Satan his life\n  He bought souls when they came with a price\n  I got the dice, rollin' three sixes, blowin' widow kisses\n  Keep wizes, readin' Hebrew scriptures\n  Each gun go a longer distance, to get ya\n  I develop, so the seller get the bigger picture\n  Ron O'Neal, superfly without no deal\n  I'm Shaquille, when it comes down to lyrical skills\n  Maccabee be a seed of Israel\n  What I can't eat in a mill, I guess, I'mma leave in my will\n  Set fire to America's flag, and the President mad\n  I raise the states, like the price of gas\n\n  (Chorus - 2X):\n  (Hell Razah)\n  We try'nna save up for AK's\n  Having helicopter niggaz screamin' \"Mayday!\"\n  This is Black Market Military, don't play\n  Ain't no comin' at my family, the wrong way, aye\n\n  (Hell Razah)\n  Child support, disrespectin' my pops, it's fucked up\n  When ya man breakin' bread with the cops\n  They love talkin' alot, so we send they heads back in a box\n  This for Ray Charles and Red Foxxx, let off a shot\n  And all the brothers in the prison cells, livin' in hell\n  It's dawn of the dead, we born here, to war with the feds\n  Lead the snakes to the edge, watch it fall of the ledge\n  It ain't over til we kill 'em, and oil they eggs\n  Probably kicked down the White House door\n  Cuz they wipe out poor, people that's homeless\n  Who life like lost, while the rich get richer, the poor get poorer\n  So we run a menage, on both Bush's daughters\n  And show 'em all the riches that his twin sisters bought us\n  That made a World Trade, when they slept with a slave\n  The same ones that got AIDS, that sickness ya'll made\n  The resurrected Nat Turner's, back from the grave\n\n  (Tragedy Khadafi)\n  When I write, the angels cry, tears fall out of the sky\n  Hit the earth, take human form and fly\n  Prophets and messengers, rise out of they graves\n  My enemies'll treat, four legged beasts, back to the cage\n  Mountains of Caucus, I'm just dealin' with higher forces\n  Satellite's take flight when I'm swervin', bulletproof porsches\n  The first dynasty was that of Egyptian's\n  Before commandments, my name was written in golden scriptures\n  When I spit, it's like bare witness to Allah Chikis Sahatta\n  Nat Turner burner, soul of a rider\n  It's like me and you subtracted from two, last one left\n  Right over left, when cowards die, thousands of death\n  Let the revolution start, where's your heart, let ya heat pop\n  Feel the lost cause of Afeni, when she lost Pac\n  Betty Shabazz, the slugs tore Malcolm's chest and he drop\n  Audobon building, might get murdered, what I'm revealing\n  Cinematic like Michael Moore, Fahrenheit 9/11\n  Mac-11 flamin', the president's head til it severed\n\n  (Outro: Killah Priest)\n  May day, may day, I report from the hood\n  Black Market, I report from the hood, Black Market\n"},{"id":22379803,"name":"Mayday!","trackName":"Mayday!","artistName":"Black Market Militia","albumName":"The Black Market Militia (Explicit)","duration":217.991875,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Intro: Hell Razah)\nFear the evil music, Renaissance Child\nYeah, Black Market, yea, Black Market Militia\nWe gon' talk to the ghettos, Hell Razah\nAll my niggaz in the projects, Will Cooper\nBlood on the walls, yeah, yeah\nAnd it breaths so shit, real deep, yea\nBlack Market Militia, roll with this\nAin't fuckin' wit us, yo, yo\n\n(Hell Razah)\nWelfare, got a respect for my moms\nI found out, George Bush was the same as Saddam\nI'm a digital bomb, downloaded on the CD-ROM\nBefore Muhammed and the Holy Qu'ran, an Egyptian God\nAbraham, saught the science of Brahm\nBreath of life, education of Christ, gave Satan his life\nHe bought souls when they came with a price\nI got the dice, rollin' three sixes, blowin' widow kisses\nKeep wizes, readin' Hebrew scriptures\nEach gun go a longer distance, to get ya\nI develop, so the seller get the bigger picture\nRon O'Neal, superfly without no deal\nI'm Shaquille, when it comes down to lyrical skills\nMaccabee be a seed of Israel\nWhat I can't eat in a mill, I guess, I'mma leave in my will\nSet fire to America's flag, and the President mad\nI raise the states, like the price of gas\n\n(Chorus - 2X):\n(Hell Razah)\nWe try'nna save up for AK's\nHaving helicopter niggaz screamin' \"Mayday!\"\nThis is Black Market Military, don't play\nAin't no comin' at my family, the wrong way, aye\n\n(Hell Razah)\nChild support, disrespectin' my pops, it's fucked up\nWhen ya man breakin' bread with the cops\nThey love talkin' alot, so we send they heads back in a box\nThis for Ray Charles and Red Foxxx, let off a shot\nAnd all the brothers in the prison cells, livin' in hell\nIt's dawn of the dead, we born here, to war with the feds\nLead the snakes to the edge, watch it fall of the ledge\nIt ain't over til we kill 'em, and oil they eggs\nProbably kicked down the White House door\nCuz they wipe out poor, people that's homeless\nWho life like lost, while the rich get richer, the poor get poorer\nSo we run a menage, on both Bush's daughters\nAnd show 'em all the riches that his twin sisters bought us\nThat made a World Trade, when they slept with a slave\nThe same ones that got AIDS, that sickness ya'll made\nThe resurrected Nat Turner's, back from the grave\n\n(Tragedy Khadafi)\nWhen I write, the angels cry, tears fall out of the sky\nHit the earth, take human form and fly\nProphets and messengers, rise out of they graves\nMy enemies'll treat, four legged beasts, back to the cage\nMountains of Caucus, I'm just dealin' with higher forces\nSatellite's take flight when I'm swervin', bulletproof porsches\nThe first dynasty was that of Egyptian's\nBefore commandments, my name was written in golden scriptures\nWhen I spit, it's like bare witness to Allah Chikis Sahatta\nNat Turner burner, soul of a rider\nIt's like me and you subtracted from two, last one left\nRight over left, when cowards die, thousands of death\nLet the revolution start, where's your heart, let ya heat pop\nFeel the lost cause of Afeni, when she lost Pac\nBetty Shabazz, the slugs tore Malcolm's chest and he drop\nAudobon building, might get murdered, what I'm revealing\nCinematic like Michael Moore, Fahrenheit 9/11\nMac-11 flamin', the president's head til it severed\n\n(Outro: Killah Priest)\nMay day, may day, I report from the hood\nBlack Market, I report from the hood, Black Market","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Mayday!\n  artist: Black Market Militia\n  album: The Black Market Militia (Explicit)\n  duration_ms: 217992\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (Intro: Hell Razah)\n  Fear the evil music, Renaissance Child\n  Yeah, Black Market, yea, Black Market Militia\n  We gon' talk to the ghettos, Hell Razah\n  All my niggaz in the projects, Will Cooper\n  Blood on the walls, yeah, yeah\n  And it breaths so shit, real deep, yea\n  Black Market Militia, roll with this\n  Ain't fuckin' wit us, yo, yo\n\n  (Hell Razah)\n  Welfare, got a respect for my moms\n  I found out, George Bush was the same as Saddam\n  I'm a digital bomb, downloaded on the CD-ROM\n  Before Muhammed and the Holy Qu'ran, an Egyptian God\n  Abraham, saught the science of Brahm\n  Breath of life, education of Christ, gave Satan his life\n  He bought souls when they came with a price\n  I got the dice, rollin' three sixes, blowin' widow kisses\n  Keep wizes, readin' Hebrew scriptures\n  Each gun go a longer distance, to get ya\n  I develop, so the seller get the bigger picture\n  Ron O'Neal, superfly without no deal\n  I'm Shaquille, when it comes down to lyrical skills\n  Maccabee be a seed of Israel\n  What I can't eat in a mill, I guess, I'mma leave in my will\n  Set fire to America's flag, and the President mad\n  I raise the states, like the price of gas\n\n  (Chorus - 2X):\n  (Hell Razah)\n  We try'nna save up for AK's\n  Having helicopter niggaz screamin' \"Mayday!\"\n  This is Black Market Military, don't play\n  Ain't no comin' at my family, the wrong way, aye\n\n  (Hell Razah)\n  Child support, disrespectin' my pops, it's fucked up\n  When ya man breakin' bread with the cops\n  They love talkin' alot, so we send they heads back in a box\n  This for Ray Charles and Red Foxxx, let off a shot\n  And all the brothers in the prison cells, livin' in hell\n  It's dawn of the dead, we born here, to war with the feds\n  Lead the snakes to the edge, watch it fall of the ledge\n  It ain't over til we kill 'em, and oil they eggs\n  Probably kicked down the White House door\n  Cuz they wipe out poor, people that's homeless\n  Who life like lost, while the rich get richer, the poor get poorer\n  So we run a menage, on both Bush's daughters\n  And show 'em all the riches that his twin sisters bought us\n  That made a World Trade, when they slept with a slave\n  The same ones that got AIDS, that sickness ya'll made\n  The resurrected Nat Turner's, back from the grave\n\n  (Tragedy Khadafi)\n  When I write, the angels cry, tears fall out of the sky\n  Hit the earth, take human form and fly\n  Prophets and messengers, rise out of they graves\n  My enemies'll treat, four legged beasts, back to the cage\n  Mountains of Caucus, I'm just dealin' with higher forces\n  Satellite's take flight when I'm swervin', bulletproof porsches\n  The first dynasty was that of Egyptian's\n  Before commandments, my name was written in golden scriptures\n  When I spit, it's like bare witness to Allah Chikis Sahatta\n  Nat Turner burner, soul of a rider\n  It's like me and you subtracted from two, last one left\n  Right over left, when cowards die, thousands of death\n  Let the revolution start, where's your heart, let ya heat pop\n  Feel the lost cause of Afeni, when she lost Pac\n  Betty Shabazz, the slugs tore Malcolm's chest and he drop\n  Audobon building, might get murdered, what I'm revealing\n  Cinematic like Michael Moore, Fahrenheit 9/11\n  Mac-11 flamin', the president's head til it severed\n\n  (Outro: Killah Priest)\n  May day, may day, I report from the hood\n  Black Market, I report from the hood, Black Market\n"}]