There are and have been, among all musical genres, avalanches of politically- and socially-themed albums filled with rhetoric. The kind that at first glance seem to be painted a fiery red (or pitch black) but when seen in light reveal the old-issue Benjamin Franklin green reflections. And then there's Let's Get Free by Dead Prez, an album impossible to find incoherent, considering the creators who birthed it in 2000: M1 and stic.man, a duo of radical activist MCs, Afrocentrists, and moderately racist.
But it's only right for the songs, or rather the lyrics, to frame the seriousness of the matter. Because it's such a compact and identity-driven work that it's impossible to find double meanings in rhymes that explain themselves. They throw them in your face without mincing words. If you're white, don't think of turning it into a controversy because these are not topics dedicated to you. If you're white and part of the Establishment, don't think of turning it into a controversy because these are topics against you.
" they schools can't teach us shit
my people need freedom, we tryin to get all we can get
all my high school teachers can suck my dick
tellin me white man lies straight bullshit "
They make it immediately clear who they are ("I Am a African"), what they want ("We want Freedom") and the issues that do not work ("They Schools", "Police State", "Animal in Man"). To dispel any doubt about their position within the music world (the track is simply titled "Hip Hop"), they spit more rhymes about how "real life is something more important than all these fake records, where the poor become billionaires and my woman treated badly" and further "if you are a fighter who fires up the crowds, or just someone who wants to get high and nothing more, don't be afraid to say it in your records. But if you are a liar, with a heated cock [...], know that I'll catch you when I listen to your record". Inexorably concluding with "I'm fed up with this rap and RnB scene made of fake criminals occupying the radio all day long. Always the same skits in the videos: it's a monotonous material. But you don't hear me, do you?".
All this is accompanied by lean beats built on percussive rhythms. The productions are all theirs, assisted by Lord Jamar (of Brand Nubian, and the circle closes) plus Kayne W in one song.
No frills or embellishments. No comedic or ironic finds. The album is dead serious from start to finish. And there is no doubt, it could not be otherwise.
" nigga the red is for the blood in my arm
the black is for the gun in my palm
and the green is for the tram that grows natural
like locks on africans
holdin the smoke from the herb in my abdomen "