Lyrics: Raw Fusion. Live From The Styleetron. Wild Francis.

This is a love song [x3]

A love for the revolution

[VERSE 1: Money B]
1951
Francis was brung
Into this world
The cutest little girl
That you ever wanna see
Big brown eyes and her hair was just as curly as it wanna be
She was her parent's pride and joy
And at the age 14 she was chased by every boy
In the neighborhood
Who was up to no good
Her daddy told her 'no', but Francis thought she could
Do whatever she wanted to do
She was independent and cool, but she wasn't a fool
Cause when you're poor, you gotta go for self
Everyday's a hustle, and you gotta protect your wealth
Reality wasn't pleasant
And at sweet 16, she was eight months pregnant
Her parents didn't approve, she had to move on her own
And around the way she was known
As

Wild, Wild Francis
Wild, Wild, Wild Francis
Wild, Wild Francis
Wicked, wicked, wicked Francis
Wild, Wild Francis
Rough, rough, rough Francis
Wild, Wild Francis
Wicked, wicked Francis

[VERSE 2: Money B]
Two yeas passed, at last 1969
18 years old and grown refined
Francis with a healthy baby boy
She wasn't doin good, but she was employed
At the neighborhood liquor sto'
Bein po' she had to make a livin, but she wanted mo'
Sho', cause back in the community
All she knew was poverty and police brutality
Francis wasn't scared of no one
But afraid of what might happen to her young son
You see, the ghetto's filled with pitfalls
And if you start slippin and trippin, there's not much hope at all
But she heard about a group of blacks with guns
They were prepared and not scared to fight back and attack
For people like you and me
To make life better in the poor black community
Like a free breakfast program
Cause it was proof, the government never gave a damn
About blacks, they rather see em die in hell
"They cause problems, let em all have sickle cell"
But this party started a free clinic
So when the people got sick, they got help quick
They even had plans for a school later
Francis read it, cause the party had their own paper
She knew this was her life's calling
It was time for revolution, and Francis was all in
Before she quit, she told the boss what she was gonna do
And all he said was, "They were right when they called you..."

Wild, Wild Francis
Wild, Wild, Wild Francis
Wicked, wicked Francis
Rough, rough, rough Francis
Wild, Wild Francis
Wild, Wild, Wild Francis
Wicked, wicked, wicked Francis
Wild, Wild, Wild Francis

[VERSE 3: Money B]
Francis, Francis, a full-fledged soldier
A member of the party with a chip on her shoulder
Startin down the road of revolution
Beginning with the work of Mao-Tse Tung, Karl Marx and Lenin
This group was following a communist plan
Spearheaded by a ten-point platform and program
Statin what they wanted (freedom) and what they believed (equality)
Like the power to control their own destiny
And the necessities, land, bring
Education, housing and clothing, and it was no thing
To pick up the gun and see to
An immediate end to the murder of the people
They were full of rebellions, well, this
Attracted the attention of government intelligence
One night there was a meeting down at headquarters
It was the night the police gave orders
They knew one day it would happen
They were prepared, clips were picked up and snapped in
Posts were manned, and that's when Fran took a stand
With no fear, her gun gripped tight in hand
Smoke bombs came through the window
They were soldiers, and they weren't about to give in, so
Gunshots rang out, pigs got blown up
The party was wreckin shit, but more cops showed up
The police were tough, and when the smoke cleared
Fran laid in a puddle of red stuff
With the rest of her party comrads
And at the funeral her son, mom and dad
Cried and cried, but what's to do when
A life is lost for the love of the revolution
Now that's what romance is
Rest in peace...

Wild, Wild
Wild, Wild
Wild, Wild Francis
Wild, Wild, Wild Francis
Rough, rough, rough Francis
Bad, bad, bad Francis
Wild, Wild Francis
Wild, Wild, Wild Francis
Wicked, wicked, wicked Francis
Wild, Wild, Wild Francis

This is a love song [x3]

A love for the revolution