This head-nod tune is set to a fierce beat produced by IntoCognition, who also adds smooth alto sax to the track.  The lead vocals feature none other than true school MC Karmic Basis, with D. Franco on the hook.

let's get one thing straight
there will be no peace
except the one up in my khaki fleece
i call 'em beast
killer treacherous peeps my pop's 30/30
on stand-by
six-million ways to die
i chose to live it up
'cause Satan follows an army Don
Ameri-con
pick it up
strong strong strong
like the ink they gonna feel the terror
when i'm sittin' on chrome or vice versa
didn't mean to hurt you but i had to
they bomb Saddam or yea
they even bomb sudan
i can't trust a slave driver
for hire the hit-man attack
counter Commies twisted like origami
and Afghan searchin' for the bad man
they say they want my brethren
disturbing now everly watts
lick shots for rappin' dreadlocks
to Pac's side
i stand around with indigenous comrades
Garvy-ite and Che-like flags   
until we pushin' up grass i ride on... 

until the earth stops im'a keep on ridin'  
until the earth stops im'a keep on ridin'  
livin' in love means lifting our voices up
louder, louder, louder, louder, loud-
do it now. 

until the earth stops im'a keep on ridin'  
until the earth stops im'a keep on ridin'  
livin' in love means lifting our voices up
louder, louder, louder, louder, loud-
so do it now. 

yo
keep the bush a-blaze keep and
keep the most high praised in a Selassie-i way
fire 'pon the Vatican even confederates
illiterate
mad 'cause they women want these nigga lips
so maybe it's
power struggle 'cause we all wanna bubble and make dough
but we ain't pickin' cotton no mo'
my fam straight outta Mississippi
durnig times of picket lines
see my mother carries a heavy load
she feelin' pimp but she can't brush her shoulders off
for raising six street scholars
trained in the art of a fine southern beat down
making sure her kids stood ground
cause if you didn't fight back
you could come home
and get that ass smooth whooped
peace already over-looked
streets already wrote the book
of survival
rival
yeah we all wanna bust all-American shells
but can't cool i
so stubborn that i can't give up
loosing sleep 'cause i always got a plan and such
she told me touch the devil with god's heat
dirt jungle concrete
and if i go down it's gonna be from my feet
i ride