Lyrics Thought @ Work - The Roots

Thought @ Work

Yo, where the freaks at?
Lookin' at me
You wanna see Black?
Then jump on it
And to the chumps who think they might want it
I might spot your ride and dump on it
And send a couple of boys to that corner of yours
And roll out with a nigga slumped on it
You see Black fall back son
Me and Shock up in a black Regal no insurance
We like DEA serving warrants
So tell the freaks you know to stop whorin
We gon' grab the mics and get 'em off the wall
So e’rybody in here can stop snorin
Yo where the safe Money unlock it, pull it out your pocket
Ben Banneker Bay with the Al Moroccan
Black Thought in all capitals like the sovereign
Girls get your eyes back up out the sockets
Focus, flawless.
New York to Europe
To lands where my feet ain’t even touch the soil yet
We’re the movement, the rap solution
It thumps so hard we got 'em world wide usin them
Tracks from Black for satisfaction
The role of captain played by Samuel L. Jackson
Yo, ill insanity that’s cold and morbid
But when I’m in your orbit your soul absorb it
A real raw nigga won’t fold or forfeit
A thoroughbred gonna enforce it
Tariq where the beats at
And where the people out their seats at
For what?
Cause y’all on it
I’m like Aquaman and Brown Hornet
I’m like Imhotep but don’t flaunt it
Dog, reintroducing master thespian
Ho-telling-est, illin-est, emceein
Fuck getting money for real, get freedom
Black on the grind from AM to the PM
Splash up, crash up the X5 BM
Motive entertainment the Philly mob we in
Weak hearts, yo we not them
Waddup nigga T3 nigga Baatin
When the M-Ill get home we gon' win
First thing to fall is cats with no chin
The mic that Black hold remain smokin'
And ladies up in the place is wide open
For real you know what I’m talking about
Pull it out your pocket, pull it out your pocket
Pull it out your pocket, check it out
You feel this shit soon as they throw it on
You feel this joint this shit’s your favorite song
You at the dancehall, you got it going on
It’s time to show it off, so throw your hands up
Check it out, yo
You feel this shit soon as they throw it on
You feel this shit this joint’s your favorite song
You at the dancehall, you got it going on
It’s time to show it off, y’all niggas know what’s up
Yo, here go the rapper of the year, year of the rap
Come from South Philly where the hammers are clapped huh?
Violate and you will answer to Black
You a thug not really is the answer to that
Lee ya, boxed silly with the hands skill attack
Cancel your check flip, dismantle your trap huh?
Wanna pack can’t handle your strap
You a schmuck type, shoot your man in the back
Meanwhile I’m outstanding and I’m outspoken
Wild out take fools out without joking
If I run out of shots I’m going out poking
On a date with sis we going out stroking
And the shot is fantastic
The fantastic is the romantic
And to the freaks in the house if you’re ready to bounce
We can go to the flat then get tantric
Yeah, you pronounce the name Tariq, any questions?
Street hip-hop I bring forth the essence
You see us pulling up five deep
With nothing but dimes inside of my jeep
I’m not arguing to get in VIP cocksucker prick
Suck a dick I’m a floss for the fuck of it
Girls say the bro Black be on some other shit
Nigga talk like you work for the government
My word’s worth like Barnes & Noble
Spit hot flames that’ll harm your vocal
Spit thought name I’m a bomb your local
Neighborness, for a ten mile radius
Well every ghetto craving this new anthem
My brain unstable and I’m just too handsome
I bang with the best around
Who can test the crown when I finesse the sound
Here come the controller
You feel this shit soon as they throw it on
You feel this joint this shit’s your favorite song
You at the dancehall, you got it going on
It’s time to show it off, so throw your hands up
Check it out, yo
You feel this joint soon as they throw it on, yo
You feel this joint this shit’s your favorite song
You at the dancehall, it’s time to show it offyou got it going on
I y’all niggas know what’s up
(move with it, work with it, fuck with it, work it out, c’mon…)