[Intro: Junior Reid]
   To the arts of our flesh
   Yeah, Stallion, whoa
  
   [Ghostface Killah]
   Oh God I beg for forgiveness
   Said help me lord, yes I beg for forgiveness
   Deep in my heart, please, I'm crying for forgiveness
   Allah U-Akbar, I fall to my knees for forgiveness
   Branded by the steel iron, bullets flying
   Ladies being hit, thru wickedness, I'm losin my grip
   I thought we live by the books, the Bible, Karan
   We pick cotton, my back is still hot and darkened
   They threw burners in our babies faces
   Peel hands that looked scary
   Touched our bodies in the strangest places
   Sweat from the white man's hand, fell on our daughter
   As she cried given white man hed
   All mighty, all righty, niggas is screwin
   God won't you tell me why these whole niggas is screwin
   I'm sorry father, sacrifize me
   Leave my wife, sacrifice me twice
   So my kids can see paradise, paradise
  
   [Junior Reid]
   So he know why God drink the last sip of the juice for last the
   far right
   Who seen the tin's iron? And weared it in hand
   In the arts of our flesh, whoa
   Let my castle just pretend that strife with me
   Fight against them, whoa, let's fight against me, whoa
   To who I see, and brother can stand up for my heir
   Oh child, oh child, only you can come for me
   La-la-la, la-la-la-la-la, la-la-la, la-la
   Whoa, stallion
  
   [RZA]
   Cursed to the wicked snakes who tried to snatch the truth away
   Cursed be the ones who try to take our youth away
   Peace to the black, the brown, the red, yellow and white seed
   We don't discriminate man over color creed
   They try to snatch up our beat son, and steal our culture
   Like German Catholics, white washin Roman sculptures
   How dare you try to deny Allah's intelligence?
   Kidnap the cue, and destroyin the black evidence
  
   [Junior Reid]
   Oh it be the father, or it be the son
   Will it be to the only one, only one creation, whoa
   I travels with the bigger men, for no one forever shall be
   Shall worry, shall worry don't end, ooh whoa
   So he know why God drink the last sip of the juice for last the
   far right
   Who seen the tin's iron? And weared it in hand
   In the arts of, in the arts of our flesh, whoa