Project Roach - Nas, The Last Poets

It is absolutely silly, and unproductive

To have a funeral for the word «nigga»

When the actions continue.

We need to have a movement to resurrect brothers, and sisters

Not a funeral for niggers

Cause niggers — DON’T DIE

Uh, yeah.

Yo, I’m creepy and crawlin', in your sink and your toilet

I be drinkin' from your spit, anything cause I’m all less

An insect with four legs;

people come in, I fake dead

Correction: I got eight legs, climbin' on top yo' plate, bed

Wherever I smell food, it could be even jail food

Stale food that’s molded, a roach is what I am, fool

The ghetto is my land, fool, I’ma never be able to

Fly like a bumblebee, try not, to be underneath

Your sneaker, pitiful creature, I’m not afraid of

Your pesticide or RAID cause, in heaven’s my Creator

I love it when the light’s off, eatin' from same knives, forks

From, any man’s dinner, see my antennas

You can’t win, you can’t stand the crunchy sound I make

If you squash me, learn to live with me

How much your roach motel costin' you in the city?

But yo, we everywhere, check your house good, I bet we there!

Look there!

Niggers are like roaches — they’re never gonna go away

Learn from them what we should not become

Cause niggers — DON’T DIE