GLOSSARY

 “Two Wrestlers” by Eadweard Muybridge

Fight Back

From the streets of New York town
Came black rhythm rap—funky sound
From the streets of L.A. town
Fag rap is spreadin’ around
You might say, “What’s this shit?
Rappin’ white fags just don’t fit”
We’re here to say that it’s okay
For anyone to rap, black, white, or gay

I am the Knight of the Night
When evenin’ comes I spread delight
Tubs, streets, ridin’ cars, Hollywood, backroom bars
Rock you high, rock you low
Make you feel like you never wanna go
Make you moan, make you groan
Thrill your body down to the bone
Cool as ice, twice as nice
Give me the chance to put spice in your life
Rock and roll all over the place
When you feel that right in your face
Rock, rock, don’t stop, rock, rock. Do what?
Rock, rock, don’t stop, rock, rock, who’s on top?

A friend of mine’s right over here
Some of you might call him queer
Well, you’ve heard it from Blow and Sugarhill
You’ve heard it from the Treacherous Three
But none can match the faggot rap
Of Knight of the Night and me
And if you wanna keep your face in just one place
You’d better not call me “she”

Now, my name is Master Bates
I’m a faggot through and through
I don’t live in Boystown or Silver Lake
But that don’t mean I’m heteroo
Well, I’ve had it with Levi’s, disco, lifting weights
Alligator shirts and going on dates
The size of this, the size of that
“No blacks, no freaks, no fems, no fats”
Lube, to me, is for cars
And I won’t go near West Hollywood bars
I stay away from Griffith Park
I guess I’m just old fashioned, I do it in the dark
I never could remember for the life of me
Which pocket my hankie and keys should be
I guess I gave up too easily
I flunked out of my course in Clone 3B
Now, I know I’m talkin’ blasphemy
Knocking gay culture with a capital “C”
But it never was my sort of scene, you see
I don’t want to be a faggot professionally

Now, the Master and I are friends, you see
But sometimes we just don’t agree
And all that shit he’s puttin’ down
He’s just a trendy living downtown
Music’s not disco, it’s punk, he’s just as horny, ain’t no monk
Leather jacketed, lookin’ for a lay
Bouncin’ to the beat at the One Way

That’s the pot calling the kettle black, at least I do it in the sack
You need three men to have your fun
Don’t you see you’re afraid of just one?

Well, what you say, now some of it is true
I thought about it, so tell me something new
Way I see it, one’s as good as the other
Keep your moralistic bullshit, brother

Most of you are white middle class
Now we’re gonna preach to your ass
If queer bashin’ is our fate, how about queers bashin’ straights?
“Oh, no,” you’d say, “it shouldn’t be done
’Cause when straights bash heads they’re just havin’ fun”
But if you’re wonderin’ the point of this rap
The message is easy, you don’t need no map

When some straight mother hassles you
There’s only one thing left to do, you fight back
When your mind’s on the rack and they’re breakin’ your back
You fight back
Don’t take that shit, just give ’em a kick and fight back
Whatcha gonna do? Tell us whatcha gonna do
You fignt back

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 “Gay Pride March” by Brad Rader  [view larger image]

History Rap

Are you ready for a story? Yeah, yeah
Of the past — at last
A story of faggots, a story of dykes
A story of incredible sights
A story of good, a story of bad
This story made us fightin’ mad
His story, her story
Our story, gay story, history
Gay History Rap

Well, back in 1969
A bad motherfucker named Seymour Pine
And the boys in blue decided it was time
To keep the faggots and dykes in line
So off they marched to a Village bar
But this time they pushed too far
Their mission was to punish sin
They met a surprise at the Stonewall Inn

The Stonewall Inn was a sleazy place
To get in they had to know your face
The reason was mighty clear
You couldn’t run a bar for queers
Prices inside were double
We paid them ’cause we didn’t want trouble
Somethin’ was brewin’ inside
Faggots and dykes feelin’ pride
Stage was set, people in place
Cops and queers face to face

First three arrested were in drag
But these were not cringing fags
And a crowd gathered, seein’ the scene
Shouted support to those three queens
Through the door came one more queer
Stocky little woman who knew no fear
Screamin’, kickin’, punchin’ pigs
Crowd gave a yell ’cause she wasn’t too big
Runnin’ and hidin’ was a thing of the past
When this tough dyke started kickin’ ass

Tempers flared, the fun began
When the crowd gave her a hand
Nickels and quarters fell down
On the heads of those cops and all around
Feelin’ rage, cops hid
In the very bar they were supposed to rid
A crowd smashed down the door
Fire spread across the floor
Three days later peace was restored
Hinges sprung on closet doors

Whoopee! No more worries
The shrinks say we’re not crazy
The tube says we are healthy
Party over here
Is Reagan’s son a queer?
Party over there
Anita says she doesn’t care
Make noise, be seen
Is Prince really a queen?

Now that the nation has swung to the right
And more people have seen the light
Murders, muggings, more fights
Sex and discos — no rights
Now that the nation has swung to the right
And you know damn well they’re gonna spring Dan White
Murder and muggings and a lot more fights
Sex and discos instead of rights

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