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lirik lagu challenge the league – re-education camp

me and z are gonna suit up, shoot up from the root of broodin’ pugilists
my view is this: whoever refuse gets boo’d out like they’re fugitives
removed and rid from the biz, we knew who blew the lid
but we’re better due to never doin’ what the stupid did
in the league, the problem’s that too many wanna be stars
while others wanna be st. but keep the a and the r
they’re really sheep in a deeper sleep, lease the house and the car
the freaks’ll creep in to fleece ya, like you’re new meat behind bars
their words are the language of the powerless, devoured lets the
suits promote and shower out these flavor-of-the-hour hits
puffed up pretenders padded ‘round, protect their cowardice
look how unstable that their tower gets! man, i never
seen so many narcissists new to the ring, they’re either
spoiled rotten babies or delusional kings
ego high but easily shattered by that one simple thing
then they leave the art behind, grab a guitar and sing…
ohh… that industry done kicked me out
it kicked me out like i was nothin’
it must have been the fans, the fans, the fans
it couldn’t have been my five-buck production
they wanna be the next biggest thing (oh no!)
flash that cash and the diamond rings (oh no!)
it’s like i told ya, man, don’t ya bring—that tired profile to my
sessions, but ya stepped in without protection

chorus
so now it looks like the perfect day to challenge the league
i think that it’s about time that we challenged the league

we got 1,000 mcs all claimin’ to be the best
but only one can be correct, the rest just wastin’ breath
now if you need a little help ‘cause you never studied in school
that’s a 99.9% chance that you’re a fool, man
the odds don’t favor ya, ya better bein’ a day laborer
and pray ya wages ain’t mislaid when they delayed payin’ ya
so how you really think ya savin’s gonna stay an aid for ya
if ya brain ain’t algebraic, can’t estimate market behaviah!
i ain’t afraid of ya functions
i used to love the music when we ruled the production
eagerly awaitin’, but please excuse my -ssumption
man, that chorus made me think that you’d be talkin’ about somethin’
hip hop’s buried underground, don’t mean that it’s dead
radio puts my brain to bed, i got my true heads instead
i’ve seen the league bleedin’ from battle, waitin’ for the go ahead
but we thoroughbreds, overtake ‘em in the race we born and bred

chorus

strike with the force of a spittin’ cobra
a mastermind inebriated, imagine the man sober
don’t need to show my gold to behold i got over
i wrote a boatload of quotable manifestos for my soldiers
and i’m-a give you voodoo doodoo’s your due medicine
that third eye’s your pineal, minimal player in your endocrine
don’t let ‘em in if you can’t handle everything that’s trendin’ in
the latest in preeminent seminal psyops that they’re sendin’ in
‘cause they want the power like they got respect of dons
but they’re steppin’ wrong, eyes are set upon greed like decepticons
had the light but burned it out because ya left it on
profits unstable, so label left ya, now ya rep is gone
so how are rakim, chuck and krs titans?
‘cause none of y’all out there soundin’ anything like ‘em
when i’m mic’in’ i’m fightin’ up in the war to enlighten
so i pay tribute to my fathers while the league’s steadily whitened

chorus

- re education camp

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