Текст песни Hoover Music - Public Enemy
You
got
the
mic
People
So
called
street
cred
The
radio
The
T.V.
The
world
wide
web
But
we
cant
do
nothing
with
what
you
said
Sounds
like
somebody's
in
bed
wit
the
feds
Hoovermusic
(First)
How
you
gonna
make
music
When
you
take
music
And
abuse
it
make
my
crew
sick
So
nobody
else
can
use
it
More
than
just
some
Non
singin'
Drug
slingin'
Hollywood
swingin'
Fling
Sing
Is
it
rating
or
raping
No
more
taping
But
somebody
is
still
regulating
These
love
to
hate
songs
Y'all
know
that's
wrong
Anything
for
the
money
Tough
guy
Bet,
MTV
pic
The
mic
the
pig
Honesty
This
policy
Be
killin'
me
Good
for
who
Good
for
what
Is
your
mind
body
soul
Is
it
better
from
it
Tell
me
why
do
y'all
love
it?
Songs
meant
to
send
you
to
prison
Bids
to
influence
a
million
and
half
kids
You
got
the
mic
People
So
called
street
cred
The
radio
The
T.V.
The
world
wide
web
But
we
cant
do
nothing
with
what
you
said
Sounds
like
somebody's
in
bed
wit
the
feds
(Second)
Monstars
lurking
the
planet
fame
1 hand
in
your
pocket
1 hand
in
your
brain
Sucking
your
soul
like
a
video
game
I
don't
even
understand
what
the
f
you
sayin'
Who's
consumin
the
boom
As
they
vaccuum
your
room
Shake
your
boom
boom
They
finance
your
doom
You
think
its
romance
Just
because
you
dance
That
black
exec
you
know
he
didn't
stand
a
chance
Trapped
in
the
middle
of
what
you
be
doin'
Increased
market
position
Down
to
what
and
how
you
listenin'
Came
in
this
game
Never
thought
that
id
ever
Seehiphop
The
game
in
the
name
of
jedgar
You
got
the
mic
People
So
called
street
cred
The
radio
The
T.V.
The
world
wide
web
But
we
cant
do
nothing
with
what
you
said
Sounds
like
somebody's
in
bed
wit
the
feds
Hoovermusic
(Third)
From
cats
told
crap
Young
rappers
gettin
trapped.
Buying
the
same
of
trick
On
some
of
the
same
ol
tracks
The
rich
stackin
chips
Poor
banging
with
new
slang
In
the
ghost
and
the
shadow
of
your
government
name
Made
in
the
USA
Fighting
the
power
in
Brooklyn
To
grinnin
in
juicin
while
crooked
Say
you
don't
know
me
Or
owe
me
or
us
My
disgust
Interrupting
my
black
august
I
fuss
Cause
these
white
kids
confusing
the
worst
of
us
Can
it
be
a
lil
bit
more
Than
sex
and
drinks
songs
Fight
clubs
gettin'
they
strip
on
Gangs
of
kids
Who
copy
what
they
did
Both
coasts
are
clear
Some
people
got
no
idea
Who
sent
em
here
You
got
the
mic
People
So
called
street
cred
The
radio
The
T.V.
The
world
wide
web
But
we
cant
do
nothing
with
what
you
said
Sounds
like
somebody's
in
bed
wit
the
feds
Hoovermusic
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