Sunday, April 22, 2007

Welcome to the Terrordome

I've got so much trouble on my mind - refuse to lose - here's your ticket - hear the drummer get wicked.

Yo. So I'm back in the blogosphere and hoping that I'm going to feed this beast on a regular basis.

For now, let's say these things up front. I'm Figy and I live in NYC. I've worked in government, the music biz, the media and now the non-profit world and none of the views expressed here necessarily represent their views. They're just my own and I'm speaking for myself. Citizen Figy if you will.

Public Enemy is a favorite of mine and from time to time I'll appropriate a line, a pose, perhaps some prose to 'splain the rain that everybody else already knows. The lyrics that are reprinted here are not my own and I share them to help make a point or just because they're cool. I make no money from these postings, so resist the urge to sue. Just cease and desist.

I might know a thing or two about sports, politics, music and "culture", so that's probably what you'll be reading about here. And I'm a bad-ass bass player who's played bass, guitar and hopefully not drums in the bands Spitball, the Bastion of Sillyness, Eating Betty, Guilt Complex and the Rationalizations (aka GC & the Ratz), Skreech, the Trip and most recently, the ACEtone ALLstars and Buddy Hell and the Bleeders.

Welcome to the Terrordome.

--Rhetoric said
Read just a bit ago
Not quittin' though
Signed the hard rhymer
Work to keep from gettin' jerked
Changin' some ways
To way back in the better days
Raw metaphysically bold
Never followed a code
Still dropped a load
Never question what I am God knows
Cause it's comin' from the heart...

Known as fair square
Throughout my years
So I growl at the livin' foul
Black to the bone my home is your home
So welcome to the Terrordome...

Never to say I never know or had a clue
Word was heard, plus hard on the boulevard
Lies, scandalizin', basin'
Traits of hate who's celebratin' wit satan?
I rope a dope the evil with righteous
Bobbin' and weavin' and let the good get even
C'mon down
And welcome to the Terrordome.
Caught in the race against time
The pit and the pendulum
Check the rhythm and rhymes
While I'm bendin' 'em
Snakes blowin' up the lines of design
Tryin' to blind the science I'm snedin' 'em
How to fight the power
Cannot run and hide
But it shouldn't be suicide
In a game a fool without the rules
Got a hell of a nerve to just criticize...

I don't smile in the line of fire
I go wildin'
But it's on bass and drums even violins
Watcha do gitcha head ready
Instead of gettin' physically sweaty
When I get mad
I put it down on a pad
Give ya somethin' that cha never had controllin'
Fear of high rollin'
God bless your soul and keep livin'...
--Public Enemy

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