Yo. When the bass thump, the place jump like it's way crunk, yeah. Fake punks get they face lumped, sent to the most high by the most fit. You gotta do, fuck that almost shit, the fam is close knit.
Talib Kweli-1. . Like, oh my God, what do we have here?. My man is on fire like the Ohio Players. Throw yo' hands in the air, keep 'em there if you with me.
Yeah. Now here we go. Here we go (come on come on). Now here we go. Here we go (come on come on). Yeah. . Stay strong this ain't for the plain hearted.
[Intro]. Yeah Hi-Tek. For who do we aspire to reflect our own people's death. For who's entertainment shall we sing of agony? In what hopes?. That the destroyers aspiring to extinguish us will suddenly.
Attention players, the rules of the game have now changed. People are no longer afraid of the truth. You call yourself an MC?. Hi-Tek on the boards, Kweli in the booth.