My hero. Michael Franti is the creater of Michael Franti and Spearhead, a group that blends reggae, rap, rock, folk, funk, and jazz into a spastic beauty. The music is highly politically charged. After hearing one song you want to go blow up an institution. Here is a section of the lyrics to Oh My God, a great song:
(chorus)
Oh my, oh my God
out here mama they got us livin’ suicide
singin’ oh my, oh my God
out here mama they got us livin’ genocide
Slam bam I come unseen
but like gasoline you tell I’m in the tank
like money in the bank
I smell appealing, but I’m toxic, can send you reeling
without an inklin’, keep ya thinkin’
‘cause you gave cash to the feds, left your school district for dead
fucked you up in the head, but still they sayin’ nothin’s wrong
still believing the systems workin’
while half of my people are still out of workin’
anonymous notesleft in the pockets and coats
of judges and juries from ‘Frisco and Jersey
threats and protests politicians mob debts
trumped up charges and phony arrests
stage a lethal injection, the night before the election
‘cause he got donations from the prison guard’s union
(chorus)
Listen to my stethoscope on a rope
internal lullabies, human cries
thumps and silence, the language and violence
algorithmic, cataclysmic, seismic, biorhythmic
you can make a life longer, but you can’t save it
you can make a clone and then you try to enslave it?
stealin’ DNA samples from the unborn
and then you comin’ after us
‘cause we sampled a James Brown horn?
scientists who’s God is progress
a four-headed sheep is their latest project
the CIA runin’ like that Jones from Indiana
but they still won’t talk about that Jones in Guyana
this ain’t no cartoon, no one slips on bananas
do you really think that that car killed Diana
hell I shot Ronald Regan, I shot JFK
I slept with Marilyn she sung me “Happy Birthday”
singin’
(chorus)
Well politicians got lipstick on the collar
the whole media started to holler
but I don’t give a fuck who they screwin’ in private
I wanna know who they screwin’ in public
robbin’, cheatin’, stealin’
white collar criminal
McDonald eatin, you deserve a beatin’
send you home a weepin’, with a fat bill for your Caribbean weekend
for just about anything they can bust us
false advertising sayin’ “Halls of Justice”
you tellin’ the youth don’t be so violent
then you drop bombs on every single continent
mandatory minimum sentencin’
‘cause he got caught with a pocket full of medicine
do that again another ten up in the pen
I feel so mad I wanna bomb an institution
singin’
(chorus)
He also starred in a documentary titled I Know I'm Not Alone, something that everyone should view.
(chorus)
Oh my, oh my God
out here mama they got us livin’ suicide
singin’ oh my, oh my God
out here mama they got us livin’ genocide
Slam bam I come unseen
but like gasoline you tell I’m in the tank
like money in the bank
I smell appealing, but I’m toxic, can send you reeling
without an inklin’, keep ya thinkin’
‘cause you gave cash to the feds, left your school district for dead
fucked you up in the head, but still they sayin’ nothin’s wrong
still believing the systems workin’
while half of my people are still out of workin’
anonymous notesleft in the pockets and coats
of judges and juries from ‘Frisco and Jersey
threats and protests politicians mob debts
trumped up charges and phony arrests
stage a lethal injection, the night before the election
‘cause he got donations from the prison guard’s union
(chorus)
Listen to my stethoscope on a rope
internal lullabies, human cries
thumps and silence, the language and violence
algorithmic, cataclysmic, seismic, biorhythmic
you can make a life longer, but you can’t save it
you can make a clone and then you try to enslave it?
stealin’ DNA samples from the unborn
and then you comin’ after us
‘cause we sampled a James Brown horn?
scientists who’s God is progress
a four-headed sheep is their latest project
the CIA runin’ like that Jones from Indiana
but they still won’t talk about that Jones in Guyana
this ain’t no cartoon, no one slips on bananas
do you really think that that car killed Diana
hell I shot Ronald Regan, I shot JFK
I slept with Marilyn she sung me “Happy Birthday”
singin’
(chorus)
Well politicians got lipstick on the collar
the whole media started to holler
but I don’t give a fuck who they screwin’ in private
I wanna know who they screwin’ in public
robbin’, cheatin’, stealin’
white collar criminal
McDonald eatin, you deserve a beatin’
send you home a weepin’, with a fat bill for your Caribbean weekend
for just about anything they can bust us
false advertising sayin’ “Halls of Justice”
you tellin’ the youth don’t be so violent
then you drop bombs on every single continent
mandatory minimum sentencin’
‘cause he got caught with a pocket full of medicine
do that again another ten up in the pen
I feel so mad I wanna bomb an institution
singin’
(chorus)
He also starred in a documentary titled I Know I'm Not Alone, something that everyone should view.
"Yo fuckhead pass me my nine so i can shoot someone"
"Nah, listen to this Michael Franti album instead"
"PEACE!"
"Nah, listen to this Michael Franti album instead"
"PEACE!"
by floralleath February 23, 2008
To go without footwear in a place where society would normally require shoes or some other protection, such as the grocery store or college lecture hall. Named after musician Michael Franti, who does not wear any footwear.
by Zeke183 September 10, 2009
by Lovinlife420 July 18, 2016
by kikidoll September 22, 2020