v1
(keep yo) head up, and chin down, fisticuffs is the only sound,
throwing rounds like the house you kicking, aint no pot to piss in,
wishin that the justice system just would listen, but whats missing,
Is a certain type wisdom, can’t be forced got to come from visions,
matter of fact theres no way, that this rogue capitalistic act will obey,
anything but the trappings of its masters race,
its no place, for somebody like me and all my bredgrens
we rough around the edges cuz its rough around these edges!
all my kanakas locked up for the ruckus,
the hakahaka, scrapping for nothing but the maka's,
stuck up, in the trauma of cultural genocide,
taking it out on each other rather then let it slide,
these patterns of abuse, got the truth, battered and subdued,
whats the use, when you feel like you aint got nothing to lose?
see the metal bucket for what it is,
and suplex dat fucka, no yokozuna but you know my big brada IZ


c1
"Rusty ol steam pipes banging away,
letting you know its another day, in hell, in a cell"
just keep banging (X4)

I aint no mutherfucken criminal, no -
just a kanaka tryna survive here in the living world,
a loving, breathing, touching, squeezing, cardiovascular system
pumping, beating, till the life-force is depleted,
but they cant take our mana,
the power thats embedded in our DNA and cultivated thru our hana,
Kuleana - lifes work to honor the past and ancient ones,
So that the next generation can still taste it on their native toungues,
The bitter waters for the ohana and kinfolk,
my nakaz, all my peoples locked up in them pen holes,
the CCs, in halawa, and way up in kulani,
or all the P-OH-DUBS rendered as private prison property,
yo, keep singing, keep chanting,
keep growing, keep planting,
keep stepping up, keep standing,
keep swinging, keep banging -
keep hustling till the muscles give in!
"He's been in prison too long heres his song"

c2
"Rusty ol steam pipes banging away"
just keep banging (X4)

"He's been in prison too long heres his song"