| One, two
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| Yes, The Roots layin' back, rela-xin'
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| Coolin' out with my man Malik B
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| We call him Sla-xon
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| YaknowhatI’msayin? |
| We in effect
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| Mode like Al B. Sure, for your plea-sure
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| Aiyyo bust it
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| We about to flip it on some ol' laid back, mellow my man tip
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| We gon' set it like this
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| Yo check it
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| Bust it, La Di Da Di, who likes to party
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| Like Slick Rick the Ruler I’m cooler than a ice brick
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| Got soul like those Afro picks with the black fist
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| And leave a crowd drippin' like John the Baptist
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| It’s the cause of that «Oh, shit!»
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| The skits I kick flows like catfish
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| And got many MC’s on the blacklist
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| I’m sharp as a cactus, plus, quick to bust gymnastic tactics
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| Us, Roots is really true to that rap shit
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| Now, holla to the scholarly street skats that follow me
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| Back to the Soul Shack with packs of rap colonies
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| Max that, Foreign Objects is mad abstract, make Shadrach
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| Offender wanna go like Meshach, Black
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| Thought the nappy cat, a bookworm, shoot styles like sperm
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| Cool as Malcolm Little with conch a la perm burn
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| The herb sticks like wicks, and flips when I slaps the hand
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| Of my mellow my man, Malik B
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| Here I goes, negroes best to know the flower
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| The pro-fessional, best in those skills that kills so uhh.
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| WHOA, slow down before you go down (sissy)
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| Sissy, this is Agatha Christie — you’re slain and known now
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| Next contender, Malik’s the axe offender
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| Critique me so uniquely with mystique that’s so deep within the
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| Microphones I grip, psych with poems so’s I slits throats
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| Put him in a quote, when he croaks
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| They sayin' -- isn’t it, is it the negro that did it?
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| Cause wreck with the tech, make you jump and say 'ribbit'
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| I exhibit many forms, prohibit the corny norms
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| (And we’re in, your neighborhood) on the norms
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| Capture, was to, whack ya
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| Manu-facture, you can even ask Anita about the, rap-ture
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| I figured, perhaps ya, a say it SLAM
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| For my mellow my man
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| The way we do it like this
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| That, for my mellow my man
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| It’s like that for my mellow my man
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| No no we do it like that
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| This, for my mellow my man
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| It’s like this for my mellow my man
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| No no we do it like this
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| That, for my mellow my man
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| It’s like that for my mellow my man
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| No no we do it like that
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| This, for my mellow my man
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| It’s like this for my mellow my man
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| Yo, I got spunk, plus funk And Jump Like Punks
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| To Get Beat Down, turn that heat down, I’m crazy cool
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| Deeper than the pool that Wilt the Stilt damn near drowned in
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| Clowns bounce to sound when Thoughts poundin', brown’s
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| My complexion, section Southern
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| My brother-in is Jex, I
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| Sweats no sex, 'cause this kid gets
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| Grits 'n shit, it’s flex to drains that was crazed
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| When your heart spit up, dip, dup, damn
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| Yo, I lost it but back is the Black Boogey Man
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| Manic mad musician, maker of noise
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| That’s jocked by your homeboys
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| I rocks my flocks of sheep, it’s the slickest shepherd around
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| I was lost but was found, now I gets down
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| From Philly to the Apple I, stop and holla tunes and then hit
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| Up-town, Diggin Planets when they get Earthbound
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| I kick the groovy tunes for you and yours, when I pass the can
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| To my mellow my man, Malik B
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| WHOAHHHHH, shucks, my nuc snuff ducks (uh-huh)
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| Abruptly I erupt, to destruct, deducts
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| In wax I like to smack em, stroke em as I cap 'em
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| Change my name to Saran or Reynolds then I Wrap 'em
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| Negroes know we be furrow to my borough
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| Cause my ass is so thorough, like Levert Gerald
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| Too strong to be sterile
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| So I impregnates the greats (Say what?)
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| Bust the Pacino’s, I won’t trust 'em
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| Even though I lust 'em shapes -- females for retail prices
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| Twice this nice as with sugars and spices
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| I won’t smirk, 'cause my name’s not Urkel
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| The voice with the multiple choice, she does a circle
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| You wanna turn and page your eyes, and try to plagerize
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| But I degrade ya, slaughtered ya and slayed ya
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| Microphones I grip equipped to flip the hypocrites
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| And nit-wits, with tidbit skits, that ain’t *shhh*
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| It was a curse, but I divide it in half
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| Gets the airplay, no fair play, you’re feelin' the wrath
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| Of Malik, ayo get tragic, negroes that get dramatic
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| Because I have the habit to smoke rabbits like a addict
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| So if you can not rap, I will just slap YOU
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| If you wants to pick up on your nose be shows the chrome
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| And then we cap, YOU
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| It’s too bad, dem cyan’t understand de true check
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| For my mellow my man
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| The way we do it like this
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| That, for my mellow my man
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| It’s like that for my mellow my man
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| No no we do it like that
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| This, for my mellow my man
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| It’s like this for my mellow my man
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| No no we do it like this
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| That, for my mellow my man
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| It’s like that for my mellow my man
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| No no we do it like that
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| This, for my mellow my man
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| It’s like this for my mellow my man
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| I think it’s for my mellow my man, uhh
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| My mellow my man, right
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| My mellow my man, uhh
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| My mellow my man, right
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| My mellow my man, uhh
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| My mellow my man, right
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| My mellow my man my mellow my man
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| My mellow my man my mellow my man
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| For Scott Storch, my mellow my man
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| Leonard Hubbard on the bass, my mellow my man
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| Brother? |
| uestion on the drums, my mellow my man
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| Gotta end it on the one, my mellow my man
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| Check it |