[Rah Digga]
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Yeh, check it out now (uhh uhh uhh)
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Rah Digga y'all, Dirty Harriet (uhh!)
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Kweli, Xzibit, new millenium! (C'mon, check it)
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[all] One, two, three, four
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[Rah] Grimy bitch stomp the bogey outside your front door (yeah)
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Puffin on Goodie, eatin tuna and rye
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Blow the spot with some old school shit from junior high (HEYYY!)
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[all] One, two, three, four
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[Rah] Jersey's finest in the house, punchlines and metaphors
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Make your foul ice grill, thug grimy on the real
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Puttin heads to bed like Hennessey and NyQuil
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[Rah Digga]
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Convertible style, still had the heat knockin
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Bumpin shit from way back with my man beatboxin
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Shootin the breeze - see I'm nice with these
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You'll be suckin it down like fast food high-C's
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Type of rap bitch that love underground classics
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Gettin more green than that nigga St. Patrick
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Makin wack rappers go and merc the set {*dial-up sounds*}
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Better off behind a desk tryin to surf the net
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cause I be adamant, kill 'em when my joints get added in
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Worse than boric acid in your project cabinet
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Dirty Harriet, increase the fanbases
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Leavin non-writin cats stuck on the plantations
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Mini-skirts with tights, eatin lunch with whites
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Leave the party over here like they Israelites
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Got Cali Brooks critics, Ta' Kwe'(??) Xzibit
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Gonna rock shit down like he can't get no visits
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[all] One, two, three, four
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[T.K] Rock the whole world like the Rolling Stone tour (AH-AHHH!)
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Raw your wack set is faker than a bomb threat
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by a nervous terrorist who's so scared that his palms wet
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[all] One, two, three, four
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[T.K] The stuff legends are made of, urban folklore
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Like Jim Morrison we break on through
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Before I care about your take on me, we take on you
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[Talib Kweli]
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Yo, yo, yo
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We bring it straight to your face from the start, yo
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Rage Against the Machine, break it apart
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Might be over your head, but it's straight from the heart
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I show my love in the light while y'all hate in the dark
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Straight to apocalypse is where I'm takin the art
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Givin niggaz battle scars, ALWAYS makin my mark
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You fakin the part of gangster, til niggaz break in your spot
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You straight bitch whether I say it or not
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Shit is hot, spittin flames on the track
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Put our town's names on the map
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from now until we fadin to black
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Where we at? Thug rebels love metal clubs ghetto
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when the slugs let go like Frankie Beverly
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Forever we stack notes like the treasury, flow heavenly
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Get you high on speech laced with obscenity
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Niggaz be gassed like Cipher Sounds, and need rescue remedy
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then fall the fuck off like limbs affected with leprosy
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[all] One, two, three, four
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[x2z] Why the fuck can't MC's MC no more?
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Hardcore til somebody put me under the ground
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With a dick in your ear, still couldn't fuck with my sound
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[all] One, two, three, four
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[x2z] Takin me straight to the weed spot, then to the liquor sto'
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"Gimme Some Mo'" like Busta Bus', who do you trust?
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Swingin through, your favorite neighborhood lush
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[Xzibit]
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I'm i-rate, usin your body for live bait
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Xzibit rockin them heavy gems you can't take
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Dilate, cock back the weight, spread hate
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Heavy metal we settle and set shit straight
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Hit gates in my younger days, from the policeman
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Me and my clan used to dance thicker than quicksand
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Supply and demand the hand is quicker than the eye
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Find some chickens to fry, while you find it hard to stick to your lie
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I see through the tricks, destroy the facade
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Your little lungs is too weak to hotbox with God
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Rah Digga, First Lady of the Flipmode Squad
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Gotta be hard like a young nigga walkin the yard
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For the first time, we ain't the niggaz you let shine
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Expect mines to blow lines like coke everytime
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I'm an Alkaholik nigga so I finish the fifth
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You at the front door bitchin because you ain't on the list
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It's like
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[All] One, two, three, four..
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Yeah (ohhhhhhh) hehehe (aight y'all, aight y'all..)
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Yeah (here we go)
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[All] One, two, three, four..
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-----------------
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Down for the Count
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| Talib Kweli |
