Track Of The Day: Immortal Technique – Caught In a Hustle (Remix) (Bonus: The Pogues- Streets Of Sorrow/Birmingham Six) (Throwback)


I’m still not feeling a whole lot of new music.So I threw 2 songs up here that I play on the reg a lot.2 political smooth tracks as I await to check out this Super Moon later today.

Immortal Technique – Caught In a Hustle (Remix)

Video made by freestyle Artist, Joe Santos. http://youtube.com/battlearts.One of my favorite Hip Hop songs ever.And one of the best written tracks period.I’m not a huge Immortal Technique fan but ever since hearing this song I always check for him I figure if he can write this who knows what he is capable of.I thought this was a cool video also.The artists who did the video is pretty crazy.


Caught In A Hustle Lyrics
Immortal Technique

[Verse 1]
They say the odds against me, are crooked and impossible
Like I was born with a hole in my heart as an obstacle,
or left to die by the doctors, in the childrens hospital
But I never lose hope, success is psychological
The world is volatile and the street is my education
Shaping the nation, like the blueprint of a mason
While Shawshank record deals get you raped on occasion
So I’m focused on my economic situation
I’m Like the little kids on T.V. that dig through the trash
I hustle regardless of the way you talk shit and laugh
A lot of niggaz drop science but they don’t know the math
‘cuz their mind is narrower than the righteous path
It’s funny how ‘on the block’ niggaz will kill you for cash
But never raise their gun and cry out “Freedom at last.”
The cold war is over, but the world is still gettin colder
Atlas walking through the projects with the hood on my shoulders
I would like to raise my children to grow to be soldiers
But then a general, would decide when their life would be over
So I work hard until my personality split
Like the Black Panthers, into the Bloodz and the Cripz
They said I’d never be shit, but now I sit and reminisce
Like Yeshua, Ben Yousef flippin through Genesis
Ignorance is venomous, and it murders the soul
SPREADING LIKE A VIRUS RUNNING RAMPANT, OUT OF CONTROL

[Hook]
So if I should ever fall and get caught in a hustle
Let them know that I died while I fought in a struggle
From the hoodrats to rich kids lost in a bubble
Spray paint it on the streets and in the subway tunnels
Write it down and remember, that we never gave in
The mind of a child is where the revolution begins
So if the solution has never been to look in yourself,
How is it that you expect to find it anywhere else?

[Verse 2]
Immortal Technique in the streets, back on the hustle
cause three strikes will get you life for stuffin cracks in a duffel
Upstate behind steel gates, attacked in the scuffle
Razor blades stuck on the side of pencils, hacked to your muscle
But the emptiness is what bleeds you to death when it cuts you
And its the lawyers, not the inmates scheming to fuck you
Trying to fight the system from inside, eventually corrupts you
But thats what you get when you put a corporation above you
And it’s the people that love you that seem to hurt you the most
Sometimes when they die, you find yourself cursing their ghost
But you make success, nobody delivers your fate
Sometimes you give and you take
Since prehistoric vertebrates, crawled out of the lakes
And thats the truth about life
Or to do it to ghetto and your car, rims, and your ice
‘cuz even though we survived through the struggle that made us
We still look at ourselves through the eyes of the people that hate us
But ima make it regardless of these trumped up charges
And semi-automatic barrages, that empty the cartridge
Post-traumatically scarred kids that try to be brave
‘cus niggaz backstab each other just to try to get paid
Turn cannibal like knights during the crusades
Afraid of responsibility; Addicted to greed
Beating their girl purposefully losing a seed
As if we were bound to the destiny we used to receive

[Hook]
So if I should ever fall and get caught in a hustle
Let them know that I died while I fought in a struggle
From the hoodrats to rich kids lost in a bubble
Spray paint it on the streets and in the subway tunnels
Write it down and remember, that we never gave in
The mind of a child is where the revolution begins
So if the solution has never been to look in yourself,
How is it that you expect to find it anywhere else?

I used to wonder(I used to wonder) why people don’t believe in themselves
But then I saw the way they portrayed us to everyone else
They cursed us, to only see the worst in ourselves
blind to the fact the whole time we were hurting ourselves

I used to wonder(I used to wonder) why people don’t believe in themselves
But then I saw the way they portrayed us to everyone else
They cursed us, to only see the worst in ourselves
blind to the fact the whole time we were hurting ourselves

I used to wonder {*echo*, fade out)


This was suppose to be the track of the day on St Patrick’s Day the other day.But then at the last minute I opted for Apathy’s O’Doyle’s Rule considering it was a new track.And I try and mostly pop in brand spanking new cuts as the track of the day.Regardless though this is a phenomenal song and has always been one of my favorite political themed tracks for years.And if you have ever seen the movie In The Name Of My Father with Daniel Day Lewis I always thought this was a great accompanying piece.Its fucked up what the English government did to these people.
The Pogues- Streets Of Sorrow/Birmingham Six

“Streets of Sorrow/Birmingham Six” is a political song by the Irish folk punk band The Pogues, written by Terry Woods and Shane MacGowan and included on the band’s 1988 album If I Should Fall from Grace with God…..Read more


Streets Of Sorrow / Birmingham Six
By Shane MacGowan / Terry Woods (1988)

Oh farewell you streets of sorrow
Oh farewell you streets of pain
I’ll not return to feel more sorrow
Nor to see more young men slain
Through the last six years I’ve lived through terror
And in the darkened streets the pain
Oh how I long to find some solace
In my mind I curse the strain

So farewell you streets of sorrow
And farewell you streets of pain
No I’ll not return to feel more sorrow
Nor to see more young men slain

There were six men in Birmingham
In Guildford there’s four
That were picked up and tortured
And framed by the law
And the filth got promotion
But they’re still doing time
For being Irish in the wrong place
And at the wrong time

In Ireland they’ll put you away in the Maze
In England they’ll keep you for several long days
God help you if ever you’re caught on these shores
And the coppers need someone
And they walk through that door

You’ll be counting years
First five, then ten
Growing old in a lonely hell
Round the yard and the stinking cell
From wall to wall, and back again

A curse on the judges, the coppers and screws
Who tortured the innocent, wrongly accused,
For the price of promotion
And justice to sell
May the judged be their judges when they rot down in hell

You’ll be counting years
First five, then ten
Growing old in a lonely hell
Round the yard and lousy cell
From wall to wall, and back again

May the whores of the empire lie awake in their beds
And sweat as they count out the sins on their heads
While over in Ireland eight more men lie dead
Kicked down and shot in the back of the head

You’ll be counting years
First five, then ten
Growing old in a freezing hell
Round the yard and the lousy cell
From wall and back again

Counting years
First five, then ten
Growing old in a lonely hell
Round the yard and the lousy cell
From wall to wall and back again

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