(verse)
Live from occupied Duwamish territory
Where Carlos Bulosan once lived to tell the story
Of the brain, sweat, and glory of mic checks and men
Who fight the destination we were destined to end
Left the writing on the walls in the halls of the Nipo-Cong
Others transform, majority Decepticons
But my conception of the Walkman's rotation,
Is you live in the upper left you've got to have patience
Cause ain't no urban radio stations about to play us
Unless you sign the dotted and make your songs brainless
While you waitin' for the mention in the pages of "The Stranger"
You can find me in the basement makin' heaters for later
And yes, we all need a little paper to strive
But the monsters in your town will put a limp in your stride
I exhibit all the time like I'm pimpin' your ride
And we've been living in conditions we're tired of
Come on and rise up
(chorus)
Two Scholars rock fresh, North by Northwest
And it's still no rest 'cause we're not finished yet
We're broke, but not broken
Cold, but not frozen
Lost but not forgotten, we're kickin' the doors open
Two Scholars rock fresh, North by Northwest
And it's still no rest 'cause we're not finished yet
We're broke, but not broken
Cold, but not frozen
Movin' in slow motion, it's that Northwest classic
(verse)
Nine eight double-one eight, the alphabetically 2nd to last state [changed in live version to 4th]
Never finished in last place
Like the Mariners for 3 years straight
From prescriptions we administer the medicine
For people still afflicted with acute two-oh-sickness
We exist between the gold and the green
I paint the soul of the scene
Under towers of power, dodging the over Over-fiend daily
Causing bones to decay, they say is so far away
Couldn't possibly make it, I seen modesty fade
And awful lot of hate, but none of which was said to my face
I confide inside, my son, but with a fire made of purple
I'm a writer for the art, I keep it sharpened with rehearsal
The worst is when they mark us to target a market that we're not even a part of
If your CD's in Target it means you got distribution, but we still pushin' units
With our own two homegrown since youth
Thought you knew
(chorus)
(verse)
And they say desegregation was a big step forward
But integration only covered up a rotten core
The surface might've changed but the cauldron is still hot
Now we more politically correct with less real talk
They say we liberal but literally not
When the cops bend us over while upholding the law
Despite the sight of coffee shops on every single block
Nearby its supply and demand for the rock
It's two types of crack, one legal, one felonious
The lumpenpro push keys like Thelonious
The corporation pushing blood with the beans
I heard people moving up here for the love of the green
New homes, new stores, still a hood underneath
No good how we chilling in the gut of the beast
A national question, with no answer in the least
It's no resting 'til the cancer meets defeat
(chorus)
Live from occupied Duwamish territory
Where Carlos Bulosan once lived to tell the story
Of the brain, sweat, and glory of mic checks and men
Who fight the destination we were destined to end
Left the writing on the walls in the halls of the Nipo-Cong
Others transform, majority Decepticons
But my conception of the Walkman's rotation,
Is you live in the upper left you've got to have patience
Cause ain't no urban radio stations about to play us
Unless you sign the dotted and make your songs brainless
While you waitin' for the mention in the pages of "The Stranger"
You can find me in the basement makin' heaters for later
And yes, we all need a little paper to strive
But the monsters in your town will put a limp in your stride
I exhibit all the time like I'm pimpin' your ride
And we've been living in conditions we're tired of
Come on and rise up
(chorus)
Two Scholars rock fresh, North by Northwest
And it's still no rest 'cause we're not finished yet
We're broke, but not broken
Cold, but not frozen
Lost but not forgotten, we're kickin' the doors open
Two Scholars rock fresh, North by Northwest
And it's still no rest 'cause we're not finished yet
We're broke, but not broken
Cold, but not frozen
Movin' in slow motion, it's that Northwest classic
(verse)
Nine eight double-one eight, the alphabetically 2nd to last state [changed in live version to 4th]
Never finished in last place
Like the Mariners for 3 years straight
From prescriptions we administer the medicine
For people still afflicted with acute two-oh-sickness
We exist between the gold and the green
I paint the soul of the scene
Under towers of power, dodging the over Over-fiend daily
Causing bones to decay, they say is so far away
Couldn't possibly make it, I seen modesty fade
And awful lot of hate, but none of which was said to my face
I confide inside, my son, but with a fire made of purple
I'm a writer for the art, I keep it sharpened with rehearsal
The worst is when they mark us to target a market that we're not even a part of
If your CD's in Target it means you got distribution, but we still pushin' units
With our own two homegrown since youth
Thought you knew
(chorus)
(verse)
And they say desegregation was a big step forward
But integration only covered up a rotten core
The surface might've changed but the cauldron is still hot
Now we more politically correct with less real talk
They say we liberal but literally not
When the cops bend us over while upholding the law
Despite the sight of coffee shops on every single block
Nearby its supply and demand for the rock
It's two types of crack, one legal, one felonious
The lumpenpro push keys like Thelonious
The corporation pushing blood with the beans
I heard people moving up here for the love of the green
New homes, new stores, still a hood underneath
No good how we chilling in the gut of the beast
A national question, with no answer in the least
It's no resting 'til the cancer meets defeat
(chorus)