| The highest caliber make it a night to remember like Shalamar
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| Then escape to Havana with Assata I do what I gotta
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| Planes get shot down in Cuban air space over the water
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| I got insight it’s a clear case of reading your aura
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| Man what you got for us as my Black men stand in line like a chorus
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| Makin' these MC’s our sons like Horus
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| I’m always taking shots like a Japanese tourist, get the picture?
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| Flyer than Keyser Soze and no exposure
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| I’m sippin wishing well water imported from Pluto
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| That’s why my eyes is glassy, so ain’t got to ask me
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| The interplanetary Illuminati move your body
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| I trekked the stars first, so fuck Kirk and Scotty
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| I threw basement parties on the Mothership
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| Now I’m on planet Earth on some other shit
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| Many 'habitants of this world be strivin and struggling
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| Tryin to eat food and keep the rights to they publishing, huh
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| Ghetto red hot, man that shit is like bubbling
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| Can’t get no peace cause the Beast keep troubling
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| Youth, they oppose and the blows they be doubling
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| Nike heads is trife and the shots, they be thundering
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| Ways and customs don’t make any sense
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| They be givin me stress and they test my maintenance
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| Use the sand and the Ummah as my sustenance
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| No, this style will never lack, melanin’s my evidence
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| In order to effective, with your words you must be selective
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| Cause showin and provin is the Prime Directive
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| Movin those who are outdated with vernaculated thought, so
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| Every time I take a turn MC’s take a loss
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| My point across, I gotta get to where I want to be
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| As the wickedest public speaker since '73
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| Or '74, which was the year I first touched ground
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| As the physical manifestation of sight and sound
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| So gather 'round, to hear the profound brown vomiter
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| Absorb the sonic energy manifestin through your monitor
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| The livin proof, I make the truth sound clear
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| Mr. Man, in nine ether represent right here, check it out
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| This once in a lifetime like a Halley’s comet
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| Yo, we bring it to Medina like the prophet Mohammed
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| Peace be upon he, and, we MC’s
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| Speak the fortified live exhibit level degree
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| Yo, what’s wrong with this picture? |
| Don’t it seem bugged
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| MC’s is high on they supply, sounds like they takin drugs
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| Y’all trippin like mescaline and killin the feeling like penicillin
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| Switchin' to Lionel Rich' and dancin on the ceilin
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| Go ahead and be a heroin, your own mind
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| Fuck your internet, coke is it when you on line
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| Smokin dirty weed, ignorin the medicinal herbals
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| So we in your ass like you was Richard Gere and we was gerbils
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| You get stepped on like crack vials by ghetto children, plus
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| Swept under the rug, we turnin niggas into dust
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| You done came out of the earth, what your life worth?
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| When you get left with what you had on the day of your birth
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| Ha… Yo, it’s the super scientifical, high-powered prolifical
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| Lyrically a miracle, mentally I’m physical
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| Massively I’m critical, verbally invincible
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| These kids wanna battle but the material’s pitiful
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| The only original, wicked individual
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| Whenever I rhyme, I break it down into syllables
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| Simply because it’s coming straight out of Brooklyn
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| It sounds so out of sight I got the blind people lookin
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| It’s Mr. Man the act, boy what? |
| You get stolen
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| I’ll cut your ass in half and leave you with a semicolon
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| We cold-crushin MCs that’s gold-rushin for the cheese
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| They see a flash in the pan waitin for royalties
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| But kings and queens get overthrown when they grab the microphone
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| Shootin videos in homes that they know they’ll never own
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| I guess they cannot work alone, they forever with crew
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| L sparking, steady barking bout the wildness they do
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| Posin in photographs shot at complimentary angles
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| Be playin Mr. Tuffy when they feminine like bangles
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| Practices is fraudulent, fallacies record to tape
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| Step in my zone, your spot’ll get blown like Watergate
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| Wait, my blastin rate is past a state of rappers who procrastinate
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| Mr. Man is great, so every time I rhyme, I fascinate
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| Masses hate to have to wait for me to unload
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| So I flip into my mode and rhyme long like a road
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| See, I drop the greats like clumsy waiters drop plates
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| I got rhymes by the crates to erase the duplicates
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| Cause, I blow wack rappers out like afros
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| My shit is so phat it be stretchin my asshole
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| But huh, that’s not the point because I’m better than most
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| I make MCs Wonder like bread but then, bread gets toast
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| It’s like that, Mr. Man, Mos Def, and Kweli
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| Represent for every single real MC, you don’t stop
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| (Yo, yo, yo, this is the mighty Mos Def) |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fortified Live, artist - Talib Kweli. Album song Train of Thought: Lost Lyrics, Rare Releases & Beautiful B-Sides, Vol. 1, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп