[Black Thought]
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Well it's the raw regees, thoroughbred from Philly
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My name Black Thought, my girl's the Black LILIES
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Some people try to front like "I ain't feelin it really"
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But that's silly, cuz how the fuck you can't feel me?
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When I first felt it, I knew it had to be dealt wit
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Alot of ice-grillin in the house got melted
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Some tried to put up a fight, but they was helpless
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You ain't try to turn that loose, you too selfish
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Gimme that, guess who bringin the "Get busy" back
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Women say the sound of my voice, the Afrodeziac
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Okayplayer.com, where you can hit me at
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E-me and when I'm in your town, come see me
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The Real World for real, this ain't your MTV
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The illest INNERVISIONS since Stevie on wax
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My vocal like serve-o forty-eight tracks
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The fact of the matter is a matter of fact
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That it's the Black Thought, controllin like Ike Turner
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You wanna get wise, you best to be a fast learner
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Or just relax and peep how it's done
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And boogie ya ass to what's about to come because
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Chorus[Jaguar] *singing*
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The Lesson, now it's now, we close shop
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We got it locked, it's over now
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[Dice Raw]
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Aiyyo Dice's flows, hit idiots like crossbows
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Knock em out the atlas, push em off the atlas
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I'm laugin, lookin down from off top the totem
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Hop off my pedastall, grab my scrotum
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Aiyyo y'all niggas ain't FUCKIN wit this shit
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(I told em) Aiyyo y'all ain't FUCKIN wit the Roots crew (I told em)
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The rap is a riot yeah cuz my family bouncin
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Soon as the name, Dice Raw is announced in
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The arena, the grass is greener on the other side
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I hit the stores, twenty-five thousand die
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Now tell who the best in off the top in the world
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I'll give you a hint, the same guy that's fuckin your girl
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I just didn't have parents, The Roots found me in the trash
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But still, a nigga got a lot of class
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Trick wit my pinky-finger up off the glass
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Keep talkin shit homeboy, that's your ass
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Chorus
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[Malik B]
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It's just the simple part of the gam(e)
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I guess it's just the art of the scam
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Check for your soul cuz it departed again
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M-ill-i-tant is atomic, you fall from the sky just like a comet
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Move out till the bottom of my shoes out
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How many tracks do you bout?
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How many of these niggas you doubt?
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How many of these ladies makin you shout?
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You on a mission so listen to this
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Ask yourself what condition is this
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Sick in the ?wist?, I rap on a satellite disk
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You gotta like this, askin me about the way that I stroll
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About the way I enfold, in scrambling mode
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You're like that, don't bark cat, bite back
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What up Blood? Is things still the same in the hood?
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While I sit I gotta get dub, and wish I could plug
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They thoughts'll leave em stiff in the mud, you wannabe thug
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In section eight, houses were hush up under the rug
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The shit I spit is hummin wit slugs, get soaked in the suds
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Chorus 3x
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-----------------
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The Lesson Part 3 (It's Over Now)
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The Roots |