[Hook x2: Dom]
I don't care, as long as the bassline's pumpin'
The drumline bangin' away
Make one move and I'll blow you away
One false move and I'll blow you away
[Verse 1: Black Thought]
Yo, I don't really know but somebody said
That the O.G. flow, it could fuck witcha head
And the po-lice know that the green black and red
Too strong to con-trol, they study what I said
Dig it my name is 'Riq, and when I'm on the mic
I'm known to spit somethin that these MC's hate
I couldn't care less what you feel, what you say
'Cause I gotta put it to you in my own special way
I'm a MONSTER!
You know I'm certified sick
I came from the corner where nobody got shit
Took the cards I was dealt, turned it into hot spit
Now I'm not only a passenger, I'm in the cockpit
Been a long time comin', I was caught in the scramble
Of cats, tryin' to do the same thing that they man do
Eagles born to fly, rivers made to ramble
"A Dangerous Mind", I'm a prime example
[Hook x2: Dom]
[Verse 2: Black Thought]
Super-fans wanna run up on me sparkin' the ground up
You need to fall back, could be NARC's around us
You in a hot area for marchin' powder
If you holdin' chowder, just walk without it
Them real crook brothers don't talk about it
They never make a move 'til they thought shit out, kid
I knew a lot of men who did bids for mayhem
They made a lot of money, they money never made them
The game of survival is filled with rivals
Knives and fo'-five slugs flyin' in spirals
The wicked is diseased and it ain't all viral
Could be greed and gluttony bubblin' inside you
Dawg, follow your pride, the rhythm'll guide you
Yo, follow them guys, them niggas'll rob you
And have you up in somethin' that don't really involve you
But you don't give a fuck, you wanna pump the volume, I know
[Hook x2: Dom]
[Verse 3: Black Thought]
Yo, aiyyo, the waistline thumpin', the face kinda jumpin'
The game lookin' sweeter than a bassline bumpin'
Don't come 'round these parts and waste time frontin'
Them trick-ass marks'll get the eight-five dumpin'
It ain't really 'bout nothin'
Philly just love cuttin'
They shut shit down before the law start shuttin'
Get your route right, cousin
Be out nightclubbin', relaxed
And wanna get lights out tonight brother, perhaps
It's the percussion that keeps shit, kinetic
For some it ain't as fame, more sweet the street credit
Some cats that play dirty didn't live, to regret it
But move to the music, he can live through the record
I'm a Philly boss player, a dope rhyme sayer
It's Black Ink back, gettin' cake by the layer
By the stack, comin' at us, get your weight right, yeah
If not, you makin' a mistake right there, for real
[Hook x4: Dom]
Other The Roots songs:
all The Roots songs all songs from 2004