Grandmaster Flash And The Furious Five: The Message | Song-Factsheet


Song «The Message» von Grandmaster Flash And The Furious Five.


Veröffentlichungsdaten: 1982 05 (Single), 1982 (Album)
Label: Sugar Hill [Hip-Hop] SH 584, Sugar Hill [Hip-Hop] SHLP 1007 (Album UK), Sugar Hill [Hip-Hop] SH 268
Songwriter Duke Bootee & Melvin Glover
Produktion: Clifton 'Jiggs' Chase & Ed Fletcher & Sylvia RobinsonClifton 'Jiggs' Chase & Sylvia Robinson
Genre: Afroamericana - Funk - Electrofunk


Das Rolling Stone Magazine nannte «The Message» die einflussreichste Single im Hip-Hop. Der Track portraitiert den Zustand der Armenviertel amerikanischer Grossstädte, in denen vor allem Afroameriakner*innen lebten und neben der Armut von Polizeibrutalität, Drogen, Gangs und Schmutz geplagt waren.

Personen und Querverweise

Grandmaster Flash And The Furious Five
Duke Bootee
Melvin Glover
Clifton 'Jiggs' Chase
Ed Fletcher
Sylvia RobinsonClifton 'Jiggs' Chase
Sylvia Robinson


[Verse] Broken glass everywhere People pissing on the stairs, you know they just don't care I can't take the smell, I can't take the noise Got no money to move out, I guess I got no choice Rats in the front room, roaches in the back Junkies in the alley with a baseball bat I tried to get away, but I couldn't get far Cause the man with the tow-truck repossessed my car [Chorus] Don't push me, cause I'm close to the edge I'm trying not to loose my head It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder How I keep from going under [Verse] Standing on the front stoop, hangin' out the window Watching all the cars go by, roaring as the breezes blow Crazy lady, livin' in a bag Eating out of garbage piles, used to be a fag-hag Search and test a tango, skips the life and then go To search a prince to see the last of senses Down at the peepshow, watching all the creeps So she can tell the stories to the girls back home She went to the city and got so so so ditty She had to get a pimp, she couldn't make it on her own [Chorus] [Verse] My brother's doing fast on my mother's T.V. Says she watches too much, is just not healthy All my children in the daytime, Dallas at night Can't even see the game or the Sugar Ray fight Bill collectors they ring my phone And scare my wife when I'm not home Got a bum education, double-digit inflation Can't take the train to the job, there's a strike at the station Me on King Kong standin' on my back Can't stop to turn around, broke my sacroiliac Midrange, migraine, cancered membrane Sometimes I think I'm going insane, I swear I might hijack a plane! [Chorus] [Verse] My son said daddy I don't wanna go to school Cause the teacher's a jerk, he must think I'm a fool And all the kids smoke reefer, I think it'd be cheaper If I just got a job, learned to be a street sweeper I dance to the beat, shuffle my feet Wear a shirt and tie and run with the creeps Cause it's all about money, ain't a damn thing funny You got to have a con in this land of milk and honey They push that girl in front of a train Took her to a doctor, sewed the arm on again Stabbed that man, right in his heart Gave him a transplant before a brand new start I can't walk through the park, cause it's crazy after the dark Keep my hand on the gun, cause they got me on the run I feel like an outlaw, broke my last fast jaw Hear them say you want some more, livin' on a seesaw [Chorus] [Verse] A child was born, with no state of mind Blind to the ways of mankind God is smiling on you but he's frowning too Cause only god knows what you go through You grow in the ghetto, living second rate And your eyes will sing a song of deep hate The places you play and where you stay Looks like one great big alley way You'll admire all the number book takers thugs, pimps, pushers and the big money makers Driving big cars, spending twenties and tens And you wanna grow up to be just like them Smugglers, scramblers, burglars, gamblers Pickpockets, peddlers and even pan-handlers You say I'm cool, I'm no fool But then you wind up dropping out of high school Now you're unemployed, all null 'n' void Walking around like you're Pretty Boy Floyd Turned stickup kid, look what you done did Got send up for a eight year bid Now your man is took and you're a May tag Spend the next two years as an undercover fag Being used and abused, and served like hell Till one day you was found hung dead in a cell It was plain to see that your life was lost You was cold and your body swung back and forth But now your eyes sing the sad sad song Of how you lived so fast and died so young