Lyrics: Pantera. Vulgar Display Of Power. No Good.
In the states
There's a problem with race
Because of ignorant past burned fires
]from evolution
We've been killing each other
I figure man should have it down to a science
No chance
Not for a minute
Not for a second
I won't be defensive
I'm straight out in my opinion
You'ld better listen to a man who knows what he is saying
I've seen your side
You run and hide for the mere fact that you feel inferior
Be superior
And know your interior
(pre) race, pride, prejudice
black man, white man
no stand
live in the past
we make it last
a hated mass
no solution
mind pollution
for revolution
(chorus) so low behold my eyes
this land of fools will rise
no good
for no one
You blame oppression and play the role of criminals
To rape and burn show progress is minimal
White hoods and militants you know it's such a pity
Living, breathing
Violence in your city
If one man
Had one home
In one world
Held live alone without variety
Full of anxiety
No one to point at, question
Or even talk to -- in his private grave
No matter what color
He wouldn't be saved from hell
He dwells
A closed mind playing the part of prison cells
(pre)
(chorus)
There's a problem with race
Because of ignorant past burned fires
]from evolution
We've been killing each other
I figure man should have it down to a science
No chance
Not for a minute
Not for a second
I won't be defensive
I'm straight out in my opinion
You'ld better listen to a man who knows what he is saying
I've seen your side
You run and hide for the mere fact that you feel inferior
Be superior
And know your interior
(pre) race, pride, prejudice
black man, white man
no stand
live in the past
we make it last
a hated mass
no solution
mind pollution
for revolution
(chorus) so low behold my eyes
this land of fools will rise
no good
for no one
You blame oppression and play the role of criminals
To rape and burn show progress is minimal
White hoods and militants you know it's such a pity
Living, breathing
Violence in your city
If one man
Had one home
In one world
Held live alone without variety
Full of anxiety
No one to point at, question
Or even talk to -- in his private grave
No matter what color
He wouldn't be saved from hell
He dwells
A closed mind playing the part of prison cells
(pre)
(chorus)
Pantera
Vulgar Display Of Power
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