Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ital (The Universal Side), artist - The Roots. Album song Illadelph Halflife, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Geffen
Song language: English
Ital (The Universal Side) |
I wanna be able to reach an mc and reach a little child in the same degree |
And my elders excel |
I mean what the hell |
we might as well bridge these gaps |
in all before we fall in the fire |
Black Thought: |
It’s a million mc’s upon a plan they call real tryin’to set it profess mic techniques illegit |
inaccurate perceptions of reality embedded |
in their minds thus their rhymes are discredited (check it out) |
Q-Tip: |
I use my music implemented with jewels import tools |
to inspire all those too cool fools who say screw school |
'Cause they don’t see the conspiracy |
that’s put here to trap you and me Black Thought: |
Y’all know the battle leutenant be on some whole 'nother other finesse genetic |
they say I get it from my mother so its’inheredit- |
ary and very necessary to shine |
legendarily, heavily refined |
Q-Tip: |
Contemporaries like the Roots is so radit’s like dage |
which bag did they come out of, and how can I get in itto win it like raffle ticket pick |
and if you feelin’something, guess who gets the sticking |
Black Thought: |
I got this Ital mad up close and personal |
the first I find to violate, I shall retal- |
iate with realisms for their whole local |
we on point like decimal Abstract now |
Q-Tip: |
MCin while I’m breathingmcin is believing |
that you can host a ceremony and the dough is never phony |
in fact, it’s very therapeutic |
like B12 hyperdermic needle so shoot it Black Thought: |
Lyrically elicit upstarts the explicit |
most wicked seven digit mic wizardmy tongue lashes out and strikes with it just slightly might miss it when I blast through your section or district |
Verse Two: Black Thought |
In my formitive by my peers I was influenced |
until the instruments of time killed the congruence |
I peeped the blue prints on how to make true sense |
of MC’s which are a nuisance I know just what to do sinceI’m on another lev. |
brothers is fakin’jacks and think they ready for the rev. |
but they got a lot to learn, to make theri thoughts long term |
'cause on theri short-cuts they made a wrong turn |
probably, timelessly I construct the firesome |
to rip your eardrum for many years to come |
professional style thinkin’rational to move wise |
so hard it’s a wonder y’all alive… |
Q-Tip: |
…And still breathin', niggaz is dead and not even |
perpetuatin’real life the shit kicked is real trife ayo they fake bleedin' |
It’s obvious that they needin’attention feedin' |
they cold actin’like heathens |
when mics is picked up MC’s scenes is kicked up like women with the gripper drinking Moet 'till they hiccup |
fellas hustlin’picking bricks up fantasizin’about the illest stick up but rip up the jam and we be truly impressed |
on stage you won’t need your tef. |
vest |
only a mic with and a mic test |
and at your best you get blessed by the fans who profess |
that they can relate |
with the trials you tribulate |
or the pains you endure |
'cause some cats is pure |
tell horors that are true but see cats like you |
y’all fake joints just tyo get a woo-woo |
the tear jerker |
you be that miracle worker |
whose miracle just ran out |
I think it’s time you pan out |
or just plain fade, 'cause yo you played |
we 'bout to drop on you like the Everglades |