| Speak my mind
|
| Just to reach your mind
|
| Tap a tempo off the instrumental
|
| Just to get the drum line
|
| You know it’s my time
|
| Reel up and rewind
|
| Get off that cheap wine
|
| Swingning on my grapevine
|
| You heard a brother
|
| Worthy to create rhymes
|
| I take it further than a murder
|
| Or I hate crime
|
| Don’t hate on me
|
| What have you done for me lately
|
| Beside to baith me assume and mistakely
|
| Too abstract than a backpack
|
| To super underground with the beats and rats
|
| Cause I refuse to bust gatts
|
| And wather down my raps
|
| To get me caught up in a trap
|
| And set me years back. |
| Fuck that!
|
| Mos Def: Yeah right from the start
|
| Remember that feeling
|
| The way the Hip-Hop used to make you feel
|
| So real like
|
| Getting first signed
|
| Then the first time you heard Planet Rock
|
| Word is over, the God
|
| Staten Island, for real… for real
|
| I heard brother say J5, men them niggas ain’t shit
|
| Them niggas never slapped no bitch, never inserted a clip
|
| They never claimed thug or a pimp
|
| Them niggas never made the attempt
|
| Hey yo, they ain’t all that
|
| Men Six members men and four of them black
|
| What kind of racist statement is that
|
| They need to change their views
|
| Start talking about the clubbing they do
|
| Thats the reason we ain’t fucking with you
|
| Today’s artist is tough
|
| Talking loud, this isn’t enough… yeah
|
| Let’s talk about the guns you bust
|
| Nigga, the crack you cut
|
| Or all the cars that you bought wholesale
|
| Or the niggas rattling your cold tail
|
| I’ve been keeping it real
|
| Let’s talk about the ash you feel
|
| Now thats the way to get mass appeal
|
| Ya’ll ain’t heard that wow
|
| The brothers ain’t feeling your style
|
| You get stoned play over the radio right now
|
| Where we at
|
| Wh… Whe…Wher…Where we at (YA)
|
| Where we at
|
| Don’t deny me, diss or austrsize me
|
| Cause it’s likely I’m all up in your sight gee
|
| It’s unreal how you deal and threat us
|
| Your bunch of beleivers
|
| I can tell just by the way you retreath
|
| Cactus is a discreed fact
|
| They heat rap beat gaps but stay of the knee rack
|
| So you could put your seat back
|
| Pick up your feet and bring facts
|
| Rhymes and beats that we create can defeat that weak crap
|
| Cause your either bling-bliging or your next tails rigning (dring)
|
| Either way it goes, fat baby ain’t signing
|
| The game ain’t over until we all get shined
|
| I mean you do your thing and I do mine |