Yeah, they're very much the same. RATM talk about society a lot, and I think they consider themselves commies...
"Guerrilla Radio"
Transmission third world war third round
A decade of the weapon of sound above ground
No shelter if youre looking for shade
I lick shots at the brutal charade
As the polls close like a casket
On truth devoured
Silent play in the shadow of power
A spectacle monopolized
The cameras eyes on choice disguised
Was it cast for the mass who burn and toil?
Or for the vultures who thirst for blood and oil?
Yes a spectacle monopolized
They hold the reins, stole your eyes
All the fistagons the bullets and bombs
Who stuff the banks
Who staff the party ranks
More for Gore or the son of a drug lord
None of the above f*ck it cut the cord
Lights out
Guerilla Radio
Turn that shit up (x4)
Contact I highjacked the frequencies
Blockin the beltway
Move on DC
Way past the days of bombin MCs
Sound off Mumia guan be free
Who gottem yo check the federal file
All you pen devils know the trial was vile
Army of pigs try to silence my style
Off em all out that box its my radio dial
Lights out
Guerilla Radio
Turn that shit up (x4)
It has to start somewhere
It has to start sometime
What better place than here
What better time than now
All hell cant stop us now (x6)
"Calm Like a Bomb" (I think I've shown you this one before)
I be walkin god like a dog
My narrative fearless
Word war returns to burn
Like Baldwin home from Paris, Uh
Like steel from a furnace
I was born landless
Yes its tha native son
Born of Zapatas guns
Stroll through the shanties
And tha cities remains
Same bodies buried hungry
But with different last names
The vultures robbin everything
Leave nothing but chains
Pick a point on the globe
Yes tha pictures tha same
Theres a bank, theres a church, a myth and a hearse
A mall and a loan, a child dead at birth
Theres a widow pig parrot
A rebel to tame
A whitehooded judge
A syringe and a vein
And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard
What ya say? What ya say? What ya say? What? (x4)
We're calm like a bomb (Ignite) (x2)
This aint subliminal
Feel the critical mass approach horizon
Tha pulse of the condemned
Sound off Americas demise
Tha anti-myth rhythm rock shocker
Yes I spit fire
Hope lies in the smoldering rubble of empires
Yes back through tha shanties and tha cities remains
Same bodies buried hungry, uh-huh
With different last names, uh-huh
The vultures robbin everyone
Leave nothing but chains
Pick a point here at home
Yes the pictures tha same
Theres a field full of slaves
Some corn and some debt
Theres a ditch full of bodies
Tha check for the rent
Theres a tap, tha phone, tha silence of stone
The numb black screen
That be feelin like home
And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard
What ya say? What ya say? What ya say? What? (x4)
Calm like a bomb (Ignite) (x9)
Theres a mass without roofs
A prison to fill
Theres a countrys soul that reads post no bills
Theres a strike and a line of cops outside of tha mill
Theres a right to obey
And a right to kill
Theres a mass without roofs
Theres a prison to fill
Theres a countrys soul that reads post no bills
Theres a strike and a line of cops outside of tha mill
Cos theres a right to obey
And theres the right to kill