Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Tim Commerford
Tim Commerford
Bass
Zack de la Rocha
Zack de la Rocha
Vocals
Brad Wilk
Brad Wilk
Drums
Tom Morello
Tom Morello
Electric Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tim Commerford
Tim Commerford
Songwriter
Zack de la Rocha
Zack de la Rocha
Songwriter
Brad Wilk
Brad Wilk
Songwriter
Tom Morello
Tom Morello
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Rage Against the Machine
Rage Against the Machine
Co-Producer
Brendan O'Brien
Brendan O'Brien
Producer
Nick DiDia
Nick DiDia
Recording Engineer
Russ Fowler
Russ Fowler
Additional Engineer
Sugar D
Sugar D
Additional Engineer
Stephen Marcussen
Stephen Marcussen
Mastering Engineer
Kevin Lively
Kevin Lively
Assistant Engineer
Atom
Atom
Assistant Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Feel the funk blast
Feel the funk blast
[Verse 2]
Feel the funk blast
Feel the funk blast
Feel the funk blast
[Verse 3]
I be walkin' god like a dog, my narrative fearless
My word war returns to burn like Baldwin home from Paris
Like steel from the furnace, I was born landless
This is tha native son born of Zapata's guns
Stroll through the shanties and tha city's remains
Same bodies buried hungry but with different last names
Them vultures robbin' everything, leave nothing but chains
Pick a point on tha globe, yes tha picture's tha same
There's a bank, there's a church, a myth and a hearse
A mall and a loan, a child dead at birth
There's a widow pig parrot, a rebel to tame
A white-hooded judge, a syringe and a vein
And tha riot be the rhyme of tha unheard
[Verse 4]
Whatcha say, whatcha say, whatcha say, what
Whatcha say, whatcha say, whatcha say, what
Whatcha say, whatcha say, whatcha say, what
Whatcha say, whatcha say, whatcha say, what
Calm like a bomb
Calm like a bomb
[Verse 5]
This ain't subliminal, feel tha critical mass approach horizon
Tha pulse of tha condemned sound off America's demisin'
Tha anti-myth rhythm rock shocker, yes I spit fire
Hope lies in tha smoldering rubble of empires
Yes back through tha shanties and tha city's remains
Tha same bodies buried hungry but with different last names
Them vultures robbin' everyone, leave nothing but chains
Pick a point here at home, yes tha picture's tha same
There's a field full of slaves, some corn and some debt
There's a ditch full of bodies, tha check for tha rent
There's a tap, tha phone, tha silence of stone
The numb black screen that be feelin' like home
And tha riot be tha rhyme of tha unheard
[Verse 6]
Whatcha say, whatcha say, whatcha say, what
Whatcha say, whatcha say, whatcha say, what
Whatcha say, whatcha say, whatcha say, what
Whatcha say, whatcha say, whatcha say, what
Calm like a bomb
Calm like a bomb
Calm like a bomb
Calm like a bomb
[Verse 7]
Calm like a bomb
Calm like a bomb
Calm like a bomb
Calm like a bomb
Calm like a bomb
[Verse 8]
There's a mass without roofs, a prison to fill
There's a country's soul that reads Post No Bills
There's a strike and a line of cops outside of tha mill
There's a right to obey and a right to kill
[Verse 9]
There's a mass without roofs, a prison to fill
There's a country's soul that reads Post No Bills
There's a strike and a line of cops outside of tha mill
'Cause there's a right to obey and there's the right to kill
Written by: Brad Wilk, Tim Commerford, Tom Morello, Zack de la Rocha
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