| Huey B. Newton shot in cold blood in west Oakland | 
| Oliver North receives community service hours | 
| For selling weapons to known terrorists | 
| Tawana was brutally raped, but two fools said she did it to herself | 
| A six hundred million dollar stealth bomber fails to fly successfully | 
| And you say I should be proud of this song | 
| Think about it AMERICA! | 
| I’m living like hell in a world of death | 
| Protectors of the people wear bullet-proof vests | 
| Your little nephew, flipped him a Uzi | 
| Took to the streets, shot em up and then «Who me?» | 
| Locked in a trunk by Republican villains | 
| Pinstripe suits, experts at killin | 
| Civil war, but some want out | 
| Trapped in a box called the ghetto we shout | 
| Headin for the strip cuz the squares ain’t hip | 
| Sell a couple keys, make the home boys trip | 
| The president is a dope man’s friend | 
| The governments strong but the dope got in | 
| Punish the accused, but the trial was short | 
| A black man’s dogged in a all white court | 
| The jury dismissed, prosecutor says, «Can em» | 
| Now I’m ashamed of my national anthem | 
| The pentagon had a plan for a rescue | 
| They said intelligence never makes miscues | 
| The thirty-first was a day of death | 
| Lieutenant Colonel Higgins, you know the rest | 
| No negotions with a terrorist force | 
| But Iran’s still buzzin' offa Oliver North | 
| The Ayatollah’s dead but the hearts not gone | 
| The burning of the flag in Iran goes on | 
| Anti-American, we’re loved by few | 
| We pay big money to the ones that do | 
| The christian militia, they give us big knowledge | 
| But the pentagon messed up and wouldn’t acknowledge | 
| Ollie took orders from the number one man | 
| But the crap hit the fan and superiors ran | 
| Democrats tripped, the committee said can em | 
| Now I’m ashamed of my national anthem | 
| Am I a communist? | 
| No. But my brain ain’t slow | 
| Not long ago, Mix-a-Lot was po' | 
| Never helped out by the ones with clout | 
| I was mad at the world cause I felt left out | 
| Stealin hub caps, stereos, anything to get paid | 
| I realize I’m a modern day slave | 
| Posse downtown, the sight was set | 
| I saw my home boys mother with a buggy and a bag | 
| People walk by, laughin at poverty | 
| I looked in her face and I soon saw me | 
| College educated, but she can’t get a job | 
| The american dream once again got robbed | 
| Vietnam vets on the street, that’s a shame | 
| Fight for the man, and the man plays games | 
| Dogged by the hippies, dope smokin' critics | 
| You blame it on the soldier, but your government did it | 
| My national anthem | 
| My national anthem | 
| You gonna teach me now about the care and feedin of politicians | 
| Bolivia, Columbia, the CIA | 
| Any similarities, I won’t say | 
| But the dope gets in, uncut like P-Funk | 
| Headin over borders in a scent-free trunk | 
| Coffee over dope, but the dog can’t sniff it | 
| Remember that lady that was broke, she’s widdit | 
| Started with a key, clocked 17 G’s | 
| Then got another shipment, pure D | 
| Headin for Brumlen, the money was betta | 
| Rollin in a Porsche, in a cashmere sweater | 
| Crime, revenge, I’m tellin you this | 
| The people that laugh are the people that knows | 
| Her community complained, callin the police | 
| But where was the community when she was in the street | 
| Dope’s comin in, it’s killin em at random | 
| And I’m ashamed of my national anthem | 
| My national anthem | 
| My national anthem | 
| My national anthem | 
| I’m ashamed of my national anthem |