- Flavor Flav: Yeah boy!
- Chuck D: [Rapping] Bass! How low can you go? Death row, what a brother knows once again, back is the incredible, the rhyme animal, the uncannable D, Public Enemy Number One, Five-O said, Freeze! and I got numb, Can I tell 'em that I never really had a gun? But it's the wax that the Terminator X spun, now they got me in a cell cause my records, they sell, cause a brother like me said, Well, Farrakhan's a prophet and I think you ought to listen to What he can say to you, what you wanna do is follow for now, Power of the people, say, Make a miracle, D, pump the lyrical, Black is back, all in, we're gonna win Check it out, yeah yo come on now, here we go again!
- Chuck D: Turn it up! Bring the noise! Turn it up! Bring the noise! Never badder than bad cause the brother is madder than mad, at the fact that's corrupt as a senator, soul on a roll, but you treat it like soap on a rope, cause the beats and the lines are so dope, Listen for lessons I'm saying inside, Music that the critics are blasting me for, they'll never care for the brothers and sisters, Mow, cause the country has us up for the war, We got to demonstrate, come on now, they're gonna have to wait, Till we get it right, Radio stations I question their blackness, They call themselves black, but we'll see if they'll play this!
- Chuck D: Turn it up! Bring the noise! Turn it up! Bring the noise! Get from in front of me, the crowd runs to me, My DJ is warm, he's X, I call him Norm, ya know, He can cut a record from side to side, So what, the ride, the glide should be much safer than a suicide, Soul control, beat is the father of your rock'n'roll, Music for whatcha, for whichin', you call a band, man, Making a music, abuse it, but you can't do it, ya know, You call 'em demos, but we ride limos, too, Whatcha gonna do? Rap is not afraid of you, Beat is for Sonny Bono, beat is for Yoko Ono, Run-DMC first said a DJ could be a band, Stand on its feet, get you out your seat, Beat is for Eric B. and LL as well, hell, Wax is for Anthrax, still it can rock bells, Ever forever, universal, it will sell, time for me to exit, Terminator X-it!
- Chuck D: Turn it up! Bring the noise! Turn it up! Bring the noise! From coast to coast, so you can stop being like a comatose Stand, my man? The beat's the same with a boast toast. Rock with some pizzazz, it will last. Why you ask? Roll with the rock stars, still never get accepted as We got to plead the Fifth, we can investigate, don't need to wait, get the record straight, hey, posse's in effect, got the Flavor, Terminator X to sign checks, play to get paid We got to check it out down on the avenue A magazine or two is dissing me and dissing you Yeah, I'm telling you! Where are you? We're going get with it. We're going get with it. We're going get with it. We're going get with it. Rhythm here the jamming going get with it.
- Guerrilla Radio: [singing] Transmission, Third World War, third round, A decade of the weapon of sound above ground, Ain't no shelter if you're looking for shade, I lick shots at the brutal charade, As the polls close like a casket, our truth devours, A silent play in the shadow of power, A spectacle monopolized, The camera's eyes on choice disguised, Was it cast for the mass who burn and toil? Or for the vultures who thirst for blood and oil? A spectacle monopolized, They hold the reins, stole your eyes, The Fistagon's bullets and bombs, Who stuff the banks, who staff the party ranks, More for Gore or the son of a drug lord? None of the above, fuck it, cut the cord!
- Guerrilla Radio: Lights out, guerrilla radio Turn that shit up! Lights out, guerrilla radio Turn that shit up! Lights out, guerrilla radio Turn that shit up! Lights out, guerrilla radio!
- Guerrilla Radio: Contact, I hijack the frequencies, Blocking the Beltway, move on DC, Way past the days of bombing MCs, Sound off, Mumia Guan, be free, Who got them, yo, check the federal file, All you pen devils know the trial was vile, All you pigs trying to silence my style, Off them all out that box, it's my radio dial!
- Guerrilla Radio: Lights out, guerrilla radio Turn that shit up! Lights out, guerrilla radio Turn that shit up! Lights out, guerrilla radio Turn that shit up! Lights out, guerrilla radio!
- Guerrilla Radio: It has to start somewhere, It has to start sometime. What better place than here? What better time than now?
- Guerrilla Radio: All hell can't stop us now! All hell can't stop us now! All hell can't stop us now! All hell can't stop us now! All hell can't stop us now! All hell can't stop us now!
- Dub Pistols: Here are the thrill seekers, corrupt and immoral.
- Dub Pistols: [Rapping] I rip rock and gravel when I time travel My rhyme busts shots with the beats that I battle When I get in your head my thoughts become lead, Pipes that never get the C's out of bread Straight beat the bloodstream Try to come clean, Got intervened by dream that was sweet With a three-sixty degree turn on the globe And now you got me running around my area code. You got me running in a cyclone You got me running in a cyclone, You got me running in a cyclone Coma-overdose and I'm in the zone, You got me running in a cyclone, You got me running in a cyclone, You got me running in a cyclone Coma-overdose and I'm in the zone Aright.
- Dub Pistols: Three seats for the future Birth on this earth I go up from the step for my pen to exert And the G's that revert from its natural source If reversed, I take the opposite course To avoid the steroids and the jack to my record Because its style, it's the style they neglected By the natural physique on my way to the mental peak, That's when I flip the Unique Freak Let my lyrics leak as the mountain goes through I take one last look and take a giant leap, I take a giant leap I said what? I take a giant leap, You got me what? I take a giant leap You got me what? I take a- what? I take a- You got me running in a cyclone You got me running in a cyclone You got me running in a cyclone Coma-overdose and I'm in the zone, You got me running in a cyclone, You got me running in a cyclone, You got me running in a cyclone, Coma-overdose and I'm in the zone Aright
- Dub Pistols: Creation Vibration, I said we going on vacation We going on a freaky vibration.
- Dub Pistols: You got me running in a cyclone, You got me running in a cyclone, You got me running in a cyclone Coma-overdose and I'm in the zone You got me running in a cyclone, You got me running in a cyclone, You got me running in a cyclone Coma-overdose and I'm in the zone Aright You got me running in a cyclone, You got me running in a cyclone, You got me running in a cyclone, Coma-overdose and I'm in the zone You got me running in a cyclone, You got me running in a cyclone, You got me running in a cyclone Coma-overdose and I'm in the zone Aright. Too much. Too often.
- Bad Religion: [singing] There's a place where everyone can be happy It's the most beautiful place in the whole fucking world It's made of candy canes and planes and bright red choo-choo trains And the meanest little boys, the most innocent little girls And you know, I wish that I could go there It's a road that I have not found And I wish you the best of the luck, dear Just drop a card or letter to my side of town Cause there's no more time for fussing and fighting, my friend But baby, I'm amazed at the hate that you can send in And you Painted my entire world But I Don't have the turpentine to clean what you have soiled, And I won't forget it!
- Bad Religion: There's a place where everyone can be right Even though you remain determined to be opposed Admittance requires no qualifications It's where everyone has been, and where everybody goes So please try not to be impatient For we all hate standing in line And when the farm is good and bought, you'll be there without a thought And eternity, my friend, is a long fucking time As there's no time for fussing and fighting, my friend But baby, I'm amazed by the hate that you can send And you Painted my entire world But I Don't have the turpentine to clean what you have soiled And I won't forget it!