| Yea
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| That’s what I’m talking about
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| S-A-S, size ain’t shit, never that
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| Strong Arm Steady, Talib Kweli
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| Yea
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| Niggas gettin caught in the trap
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| For the cash, it’s the drugs; |
| basketball; |
| or the rap
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| There’s more to us than that
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| We the shit consider the facts, after you analyze that
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| You know you best to fall back
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| I’m dealing with, nothing but facts, when I spit it, though
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| You niggas superstitious don’t step on the cracks or split the pole
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| Candle light, flickers so bright, my silhouette can kick a sicker flow
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| And spill it like a liquor store, I spit the shit to make a cripple get up and
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| dance
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| I spit the shit to make the average MC piss in his pants
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| I spit the shit to make a motherfucker call it a night
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| I spit the shit to see fuck wit C. Delores Tucker sex like
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| I take a sip from my creative well, in this game for a minute
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| I play this well to win it, you go to Africa, like Dave Chappelle, you finished
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| Cause your prehistoric raps is boring, the number of whack rappers soaring
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| Like the percentages of teenagers who have abortions
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| These niggas meek, their lyrics weak, and their beats is corporate
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| They try snitching on records their mouths is leaking faucets
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| Dripping them over system than, Chinese water torture
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| Ripping a series of events, more unfortunate than Lemony Snicket
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| Medallions mind, bless the mic for the gods, teach the blind
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| Plus get a piece of mine release your minds for each design
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| Baby food for thought, rappers not coonin' for sport
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| Due to these pork eatin niggas of sort
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| Yo you’s a fuckface, burnt out loser that’s always up late
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| Planet Asia the revolutionary slash nut case
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| A witchcraft black magic, data load up computers
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| A spread the message wrote to you where when I show illusions
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| If all y’all niggas is killas then how you write your records
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| How’d you find the time stop lying, your minds' infected
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| There’s only a few, and I ain’t saying niggas don’t put it down from you town
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| I’m talkin bout you
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| Yea the fake dude promotin propaganda
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| And open on some fanna, and out right, snitching on them cameras
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| Planet Asia, gold chain black bandanas low
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| Steady Gain Klick Klack rang rang, there they go
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| Just a high skip and a jump
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| Away from getting everything that I could possibly want
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| And prostitutes front
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| Get a 4 bar on the roster, scratch that
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| I’m talkin about a full roster of raps
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| Monsters that rap, buzzed out ?? |
| check the cadence of the frequency
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| Uniquely, we strong arms strategically
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| Easily I twist the ?? |
| killa cali ??
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| Back alleys burnin backwoods in danelis or
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| He probably with Kweli, out in BK
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| We make it easy for the DJ’s, like instant replays
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| Conversation by the buttons, I talk and touch something
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| Straight shots of the Louis he flew me out to London
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| Crunchin numbers flippin more dough, like siccisero
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| Next thing you know we kissin ya ho, without the mistletoe
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| Strong arm steady, agony can ???, fill the rigglies
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| The Big League niggas is dropping indies
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| Let’s go
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| Talib kweli, right about now
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| This what I’m feelin right about now
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| And I invite you all to check it out wit me
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| Lets go!
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| S’like |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Drugs, Basketball & Rap , by - Talib Kweli. Song from the album Right About Now, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп