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Released: September 29, 1987

Uplift Mofo Party Plan

Label: EMI
Release date: September 29, 1987
Producer: Michael Beinhorn
Mixed by: John Potoker
Recorded by: Judie Clapp
Mastered by: Howie Weinberg
Recorded at: Capitol Studios, Hollywood, CA; El Dorado Studio, Hollywood, CA.
Illustration by: Gary Panter
Artwork direction by: Henry Marquez

Tracks 1, 3, 8, 11 written by Red Hot Chili Peppers
Tracks 2, 4, 5, 9, 12 written by Anthony Kiedis, Flea, Jack Irons & Hillel Slovak
Track 6 written by Red Hot Chili Peppers & Michael Beinhorn
Track 7 written by Bob Dylan
Track 10 written by Red Hot Chili Peppers & Cliff Martinez
© 1987 Moebetoblame Music (BMI)

Additional Musicians:
Party Vocals on “Organic Anti-Beat Box Band” – Bill, Lola, Gary, Toni, Perry, Tammy, Addie Manny, Michael Beinhorn, Annie Newman, Loesha, Bob, Norwood Fisher, Kevin, Angelo Moore, David Kenoly

© 1987 EMI Records

Fight Like A Brave


        All you slingers and friends

        Hide behind your rocks

        Put down your guard

        I’m not here to box

        This is no showdown

        So throw down your guns

        You see it doesn’t matter

        Where you come from

        You could be from Park Ave

        Or from a park bench

        You could be a politician

        Or a bitchy princess

        But if you’re lookin’ for a fist

        And you’re lookin’ to unite

        Put your knuckleheads together

        Make a fist and fight

        Not to your death

        And not to your grave

        I’m talkin’ bout that freedom

        Fight like a brave



        Fight like a brave – don’t be a slave

        No one can tell you

        You’ve got to be afraid



        If you’re sick-a-sick n tired

        Of being sick and tired

        If you’re sick of all the bullshit

        And you’re sick of all the lies

        It’s better late than never

        To set-a-set it straight

        You know the lie is dead

        So give yourself a break

        Get it through your head

        And get it off your chest

        Get it out your arm

        Because it’s time to start fresh

        You want to stop dying

        The life you could be livin’

        I’m here to tell a story

        But I’m also here to listen

        No I’m not your preacher

        And I’m not your physician

        I’m just trying to reach you

        I’m a rebel with a mission



        Fight like a brave – don’t be a slave

        No one can tell you you’ve got to be afraid

        Fight like a brave – don’t be a slave

        No one can tell you you’ve got to be afraid



        You say you’re running

        And you’re running

        And you’re running afraid

        You say you ran across the planet

        But you couldn’t get away

        The fire in your brain

        Was driving you insane

        You were looking for a day

        In a life that never came

        So don’t tell me that

        I’ve got to take a number

        ‘Cause I’ve been to that doctor

        And believe me that’s a bummer

        Here’s a one of a kind

        Convention of the mind

        And don’t forget to mention

        That it doesn’t cost a dime

        Come as you like

        And leave any time

        And one more thing

        You know it doesn’t have to rhyme



        Fight like a brave – don’t be a slave

        No one can tell you you’ve got to be afraid

        Fight like a brave – don’t be a slave

        No one can tell you you’ve got to be afraid

        Fight like a brave – don’t be a slave

        No one can tell you you’ve got to be afraid

        Fight like a brave – don’t be a slave

        No one can tell you you’ve got to be afraid


Funky Crime


        Why do you do what you do

        I do what I want to do

        Who said you could do what you do

        I told you who told me to

        I do what I want to do

        I do what I want to do



        Funky crime funky crime

        Don’t you know funk’s color blind

        Well I’ve committed a funky crime

        Against a state of mind



        Hey you mister interview

        I don’t have to answer you

        This is what I grew into

        Don’t judge me and my soul stew

        ‘Cause funk is my attitude

        Funk is my attitude



        Funky crime funky crime

        Don’t you know funk’s color blind

        Well I’ve committed a funky crime

        Against a state of mind



        Barriers of race

        In the media take place

        Tellin’ you there is no room

        For what you do, don’t budge

        There’s no groove to your cold gloom

        And who made you the judge

        Always room for funky tunes

        And yes I funk it up

        I funk it up



        Funky boy

        Meets a funky girl

        Make it funky, baby

        ‘Cause the funk is crazy



        Why do you do what you do

        I do what I want to do

        Who said you could do what you do

        I told you who told me to

        I do what I want to do

        I do what I want to do



        Funky crime funky crime

        Don’t you know funk’s color blind

        Well I’ve committed a funky crime

        Against a state of mind



        Funky crime

        Funky crime

        A funky funky crime

        The crime is funky


Me And My Friends


        Me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my friends

        Me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my friends

        Me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my friends

        Me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my friends



        Like two sweet peas

        In an even sweeter pod

        That’s my friend

        And my friend’s named Bob

        Like the devil knows hell

        I know Bobby well

        Well enough to tell you

        ‘Bout his 67 smells

        Well enough to tell you

        He’s a hell-a-swell-a fellow

        Well enough to tell you

        That we know each other better

        Than we know ourselves

        Like freaks of a feather

        We rock together

        I know Bob well

        But I think he knows me better



        Me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my friends

        Me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my friends

        Me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my friends

        Me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my friends



        He’s as close to me

        As a friend can be

        I’ll be standin’ by my buddy

        He’ll be standin’ by me

        Just another half of

        The two headed freak

        Bit I need him like

        My heart needs to beat

        At this point

        In this friendly verse

        I’ve gotta sing a little something

        That I haven’t rehearsed

        It’s about my man

        And his name is Hillel

        For whom my love

        Is soul-brother sacred

        Take it Huckleberry

        Slim Boy take it



        Me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my friends

        Me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my friends



        Jacky’s eyes are closed

        But he’s right on course

        Because he’s guided by

        The invisible force

        He drives a kooky green Chrysler

        Bad as anybody’s Porsche

        He’s a working class drummer

        He’s as strong as a horse



        Me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my friends

        Me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my friends

        Me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my friends

        Me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my, me and my friends


Backwoods


        Someone spilled blood many years ago

        Someone spilled blood but do you know

        That from the backwoods

        Where the Chuck Berrys grow

        Come your long tall

        Daddies of rock and roll



        Take me to your backwoods now

        Take me to your backwoods now



        Spinnin’ down from the clouds

        Like a tornado

        Spinnin’ out of control

        Like a psychedelic soul

        With a rhythm hittin’ harder

        Than Larry Holmes

        Come your long tall

        Daddies of rock and roll



        Mr. Uplift Mofo – my man Bo Diddley

        Hit sippin’ a bottle of nickel ripple

        Play the lickity split finger lickin’ licks

        For all you wicked city slick chicks

        And all you nitty gritty hicks

        We’ll make your nipples ripple

        Make you wanna dip your dipple

        Make you wanna soak your hickory stick

        That’s right

        Because my man has a grip on it

        And I do mean on it

        Which brings to mind

        A very sinister minister kind of guy

        A man named Little Richard

        Who was born to make them bitches stir

        That’s right he’ll make the sweet substance drip

        From the middle of your hillbilly lips

        And like the farmer milks his cow

        The Howlin’ Wolf will howl

        And since times does allow

        You all can

        Take me to your backwoods now



        Take me to your backwoods now

        Take me to your backwoods now

        Take me to your backwoods now

        Take me to your backwoods now

        Take me to your backwoods


Skinny Sweaty Man


        Flashin’ lots of cash and spendin’ lots-o-loot

        He’s sitting at the bar – then he’s sittin’ at the booth

        Across the dance floor he does scoot

        He’s the skinny sweaty man in the green suit



        The caboose that could he goes toot toot

        Been known to gag and sometimes puke

        A very good friend of Granny Goose

        He’s the skinny sweaty man in the green suit



        Skinny sweaty man in the green suit



        He’s half man and half cartoon

        But good buddy don’t be confused

        He’s full blooded looney tune

        He’s the skinny sweaty man in the green suit



        Face to face with the man in the moon

        His family doctor is Doctor Seuss

        If you catch him in your soup please don't shoot

        He's the skinny sweaty man in the green suit



        Skinny sweaty man in the green suit



        He was new in town

        A free wheelin’ clown

        A very funny young duke

        Hangin’ under the roof

        Of a place in time

        United sound



        He’ll play a little guitar sing a few blues

        He’s the kind-a-guy that you can’t refuse

        Despite the fact that he’s no brute

        He’s the skinny sweaty man in the green suit



        Strike the magic groove make him jerk and move

        Like an eight legged freak in snake skin boots

        Coming soon to a theatre near you

        He’s the skinny sweaty man in the green suit


Behind The Sun


        One day while bathing in the sea

        My talking dolphin spoke to me

        He spoke to me in symphony

        From freedom's peace beneath the sea

        He looked to me eyes full of love

        Said yes we live behind the sun



        Behind the sun

        Behind the sun

        Behind the sun



        The sun goes up

        And the sun gets down

        But like the heart of the sun

        My heart continues to pound



        Behind the sun



        Now while I shower in the rain

        I watch my dolphin swim away

        The one who listens to the surf

        Can feel the pulse beat of the earth

        And like my dolphin swims so free

        The sun does swim into the sea



        Behind the sun

        Behind the sun

        Behind the sun



        An island flying through the sky

        One day your son might ask you why

        And if you son should be a girl

        She too might ask you of this world

        The sun shines sweet upon your beach

        And yes my dolphin loves to teach



        Behind the sun

        Behind the sun

        Behind the sun



        The sun goes up

        And the sun gets down

        But like the heart of the sun

        My heart continues to pound



        Behind the sun


Subterranean Homesick Blues
Party On Your Pussy (formerly Special Secret Song Inside)


        Well, my landlady, she lives three houses away

        She claims that she can hear my baby screaming to me “Fuck me”

        Anthony, Anthony



        I want to party on your pussy, baby

        I want to party on, party on your pussy

        I want to party on your pussy, baby

        I want to party on your pussy



        Struck by lust in a telephone booth

        Busted by a cop; he said “That's uncouth”

        He said that she can hear my baby screaming to me “Fuck me”

        Anthony, Anthony



        I want to party on your pussy, baby

        I want to party on, party on your pussy

        I want to party on your pussy, baby

        I want to party on your pussy



        Let me shine your diamond

        The girl got a scratch

        Slap that cat

        Have mercy



        I want to party on your pussy, baby

        I want to party on, party on your pussy

        I want to party on your pussy, baby

        I want to party on your pussy


No Chump Love Sucker


        She's a witch a bat

        A bonafide bore

        What's more – she snores

        And that is a fact

        Cow eyes lie

        Yes it's time to resist

        How did I ever

        Get into this

        How could I ever

        Have kissed that bitch

        So what if she’s

        Got big tits



        She's the kinda girl

        Who changes her mind really quick

        She's the kinda girl who

        Won't just let things sit



        She came like a cat

        Like a cat to cat nap

        She came in my life

        With her womanly hips

        When I first met her

        I came unglued

        Well I played the part of

        A blueblooded fool

        I'm through with your sewage

        I'm through with your trash

        Well I always knew that I'd

        Get the last laugh



        She's the kinda girl

        Who changes her mind really quick

        She's the kinda girl who

        Won't just let things sit



        Like two trains on one track

        Bound for a crash

        Two red, white, and blues we were

        Destined to clash

        I can't fix the future

        I can't change the past

        Like fly by night news

        We were not meant to last

        I'm through with your bluefish

        I'm through with your gash

        I'm through being screwed with by

        You and your wack attack



        Jump back for chump love

        You won't back for cover

        But no, no, no, no

        I'm no chump love sucker



        No chump love sucker

        No chump love sucker

        No chump love sucker

        No chump love sucker

        No chump love sucker



        I thought that your love

        Was a matter of fact

        But I lost my pride

        When I realized that

        The smack in my bag

        And my baseball bat

        Was all you were after

        “You dirty rat”

        She’s bitch and a brat

        And a living disaster

        She thought she was fast

        But I was faster



        No chump love sucker

        No chump love sucker

        No chump love sucker

        No chump love sucker

        No chump love sucker

        No chump love sucker

        No chump love sucker

        No chump love sucker


Walkin' On Down The Road


        Well I'm walkin' on down the road

        But it can't be heaven

        'Cause the streets aren't gold

        And everybody knows what Bobby D was told

        I'm walkin' on down the road



        Groovin' a tune straight out of the womb

        'Cause trust is a must to be a true blue dude

        That's a matter of fact don't be confused

        Everybody knows true friends are few

        Everybody come, every body sing, sing my song

        Everybody knows, everybody thinks that I've done wrong

        Everybody come, everybody sing, sing my song



        Well I'm walkin' on down the road

        But it can't be heaven

        'Cause the streets aren't gold

        And everybody knows what Bobby D was told

        I'm walkin' on down the road



        

        A like a mama bear hugs her baby bear cubs

        A dude he can't lose when lives on love

        Like the bark on a tree

        Like the skin on my knees

        I'm standin' by my blood



        Everybody come, everybody sing, sing my song

        Everybody knows, everybody thinks that I've done wrong

        Everybody come, everybody sing, sing my song

        Everybody come, everybody sing, sing my song

        Everybody knows, everybody thinks that I've done wrong

        Everybody come, everybody sing, sing my song



        Well I'm walkin' on down the road

        But it can't be heaven

        'Cause the streets aren't gold

        And everybody knows what Bobby D was told

        I'm walkin' on down the road

        I'm walkin' on down the road

        I'm walkin' on down the road


Love Trilogy


        My love comes

        And when it does

        It's a crazy kind of

        Selective affection

        My love flows like a wise guy's tie

        In the zaniest of directions

        My love protection, my love erection

        You better get some of my affection

        My love can be bigger than

        The Hoover Dam

        My love can hide behind

        A grain of sand

        My love for life is fueled by the love for my band

        I love his mother and

        The silly mixed up man

        Some people think he's bad

        They say he doesn't laugh

        And ask my dad



        My love is death to apartheid rule

        My love is the deepest depth, the ocean blues

        My love is the Zulu groove

        My love is the coop-a-loop move

        My love is lightning's blues

        My love is the pussy juice

        My love can't be refused

        My love is gettin' my food

        My love, my love



        My love began from love

        My love for an unknown grubby bum

        My love for the baby suckin' on his thumb

        My love for a fresh set of buns

        My love for the feel of the drums

        My love for a bunch of knuckleheads

        My love for the sweet smell of bread

        My love for the legs that I spread

        My love for the fat natty dread

        My love, my love



        My love is my toes in the sand

        My love is my dick in my head

        My love is my toes in the sand

        My love is my dick in my head


Organic Anti-Beat Box Band


        Welcome my friends to my thoughts of when

        The Fax City 4 were four young men

        Time has come, now we jam

        With the Uplift Mofo Party Plan

        We're the organic anti-beat box band



        One comes from the holy land

        Another was born an Australian

        Me, I'm from Michigan

        But Hollywood is the land of lands

        It's a Hollywood jam



        We represent the Hollywood kids

        Hollywood is where we live

        We represent the Hollywood kids

        Organic anti-beat box band



        Life is grand in the land of lands

        The mind does boggle the mind expands

        The anarchy 4 have manned their craft

        Get on your knees and shake your ass

        To the jam that is



        We don't ask we demand

        That you and your clan

        Listen now to this jam

        To the power of the drummer

        'Cause the drummer's bad

        It's a Hollywood jam

        Let's rock



        We represent the Hollywood kids

        Hollywood is where we live

        We represent the Hollywood kids

        Organic anti-beat box band



        There's a party in my town at 12:00

        There's a party that's rockin' down to the rock

        I've got nothin' against hip hop

        But there's a party in my town

        And no beat box jam that is



        The party's got girls and the girls got hot

        The party's got boys and the boys got socks

        Something popped the doors unlocked

        The house got up ran around the block

        Sit down house

        Take off your blouse



        We represent the Hollywood kids

        Hollywood is where we live

        This is for the lollypop kids

        Over the rainbow with the wiz

        We represent the Hollywood kids

        Organic anti-beat box band



        With the organic anti-beat box band

        You just might slam dance that is

        It's a Hollywood jam