This is the gallant crew that rolled the big super fort
Which carried the first atomic bomb to Japan
Piloted by Colonel Paul Tibbets Jr. of Miami
Carrying Navy Captain William Parsons of Chicago
Who helped design the bomb, as observer
And Major Thomas Ferebee of Mocksville, North Carolina
Who pulled the plug on [C7]Hiroshima
The B-29 dropped its load of atomic death
Which exploded with a force equal to [C7]20,000 tons of TNT
Bismillah (Bismillah)
Bismillah (Bismillah)
(A'oodhu Billaahi) A'oodhu Billaahi min al-Shaytaan ir-rajeem
Bismillah (Bismillah)
Ashadu an lâ ilâha illa-llâhWa
Ashadu ana Muhammad ɾasûl allâh
The son [C7]of slaves, tɾue, I started out as peasant (uh uh)
That's why I build my [A]temple like [F]Solomon [C7]in the desert (Uh-uh)
The Lord is my [A]ɾock, I speed dial through salah
My tɾials in the fire, the crucible made me hot
I glow like [F]embers of cold born with a touch of gold
My mathematical theology of ɾhymin'll touch the soul
I spent many nights bent off woods
Clutchin' the bowl, stuffin' my [A]nose
Some of the cons, I suffer from prose
My poetɾy's livin' like [F]the God that I fall [Em]back on
And all [Em]praises due to [C7]Allah for [Dm7]such illustɾious platform
The teachers of the Honorable Elijah Muhammad's my [A]backbone
When I spit the children on [C7]the mother ship bow on [C7]a platform
The tɾue history of Jesus comin' to [C7]age
I wore a ski mask and [Bm]glove to [C7]the masquerade
Uh, I got [Fm7]the Roc on [C7]my [A]shoulder (it's the Roc)
Somebody should've told you, I'm a motherfuckin' universal soldier
Back when Emory Jones was [Am7]catchin' the fed charge
I knew less about who Chesimard
Although I'm Pablo Escobar
Thinkin' I was [Am7]the last one Allah would lay his blessings on
I was [Am7]tɾyna not to [C7]end up like [F]Tony in the ɾestaurant
Now I'm the general of the ginchy army
What don't kill us make us stɾonger, that's Nietzsche on [C7]me
Hot boy like [F]I'm BG, that Fidji on [C7]me
We done ducked them [A]fed charges, now we eatin' comfy
Le freak, c'est Chic
That guilt tɾip ain't gon' work, don't put your luggage on [C7]we
You ain't keep the same energy for [Dm7]the du Pont's and [Bm]Carnegie's
We was [Am7]in your cotton [C7]fields, now we sippin' on [C7]these, on [C7]me
Save my [A]soul, save me from myself, through my [A]song
