Contactez-nous

• Artiste: Talib Kweli
• Titre: Native Sons - Part 2
Assurez-vous que les corrections sont tout à fait exactes
S'il vous plaît, les mettez en évidence en quelque sorte!
Vous pouvez, par exemple, écrire
INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
CORRECT: avant la correspondant ligne correcte
Autrement, nous ne pouvons les corriger pas! Merci pour votre aide.
Native Tongue Brothers Stand clear to be plugged up into lines 1 through 6 So you can flaunt that legendary style of speak Yo, Black for real, he reps the city of Phil Park the wheel ("What up, Black?"), fuck's the deal? Start the drill, the audience keeps still Thought could spill, he paints a portrait ill So everything's flames, Black's the name Raised on the Rakims, Kool G. Raps, and Kanes A nigga used to catch the train with gats to aim Now I make 'em catch the wave that Black became Look, baller faction, y'all a fraction All relaxing, this'll be a call to action A futurе, I been seen it all from back when We would shoot ya, we'd еither brawl or backspin Yup, they asking if I'm up, yeah – well, fuck yeah I've been top tier so long, it's like I'm stuck here What fear? Only one I fear is upstairs Had to do for self, I wasn't permitted to touch theirs They trying to afford my time to record No stress, I never do it for some kind of reward I require me to aspire to the height of the Lord Then reveal the will of the quill, the might of the sword I'm like Talib Kweli on Tongkat Ali, the gun back To mutilate the drum track, probably Facts, I'm more Project Pat than Pat Reilly I'm Black like Mach-Hommy and strapped just like Tommy Yo, respectfully, with all disrespect intended You lazy pen niggas need to be rescinded Wannabe lyrical John Gotti, when you just John Pilates Bending, stretching truth But Plug Won will tell you one thing, we're foundational funding With investments that gave birth to youth In thinking caps, we run laps But we ain't passin' off batons (We done that) We side-by-siding it (While we find you) Saying "Don't call it a comeback!" But all we see is dicks behind you (As yes men) And y'all ain't Todd Smith, the God's gift With the answers to the questions And who am I? I'm from a band who's been abandoned 'Cause we keep hearing we're appearing in a class by ourselves With Tongues (That's Native to sons) Who put the soul in the program of zero and one Ayo, I beat up the drums like the sucka stole somethin' I'm humpin' on the bass, like I never had nothin' The tweeters in my face like, "Take it, it's yours" (It's yours!) It's hot in this mug, I'm here sweatin' in my drawers I'm Native by design, a brother all the time Keep it Jungle is my M.O., NY state of mind A few cards short of a full deck, I know it I'm cooler than a motha', so I don't hardly show it The fam is in the building, so I let the dogs loose B. Thought, Mr. Kweli, and my nigga, Posdnuous The Baby Bam beat sets the tone for the era Lean back, whippersnapper, we the squad for the terror The vibes much better, tougher than leather 7-oh to 2G, rolled up together Smokin' on fat a top, sittin' on a mountaintop Watchin' all the party people rock to my Hip-Hop Yup, every flow is a flex I'm in my B-Boy stance, every pose is a threat This for my Native Tongues crew, son, we showin' respect I got my Brothers from the Jungle, and we'll go on a Quest Prepare for the worst, even as we hope for the best Showin' love to the Plugs like a cocá connect Open your chest like 'Alien', choke you to death Take the crown without ever havin' broken a sweat The B-L-A-C-K S-T-A-R, slayin' the fake gods Straight from the borough that make stars Everything we spittin' is straight bars We overcame great odds I'm rockin' with the Bey like the Based God That's accurate, nigga, do the math like a abacus Or algebra, the lesson's translated from Arabic The Gambler's Fallacy, the law of the averages The champion sound vs the fall of the challengers Cut-cut-cut your nose off, to spite your face I got punchlines that hit below the waist Fight or flight, looks like you're wearin' a cape You're on the up and up, but it's goin' sideways If you know that crime pays, here's an application Money so tight, cuttin' off your circulation Not a waitress, I don't take side orders 'Straight Out The Jungle,' 'Done By The Forces' Hell or high waters, your socks are showin' Feeding off the crowd, they ain't got me going You had a moment, put your foot on the brake 'Cause I'm not another sucka DJ Bars for days, with beer on tap All these beats with my rhymes attached 5 thousand boomin' watts, sound system state of the art Now tell me who told y'all to let a muhfucka back on the block Bus' Rhymes the bully foot, park ship at the dock I kill 'em 'til they all decay and eventually rot Do not enter, store shut – bitch, I close every shop Every time a nigga spit, I microphone 'em dumb Alien bars, they still wonder where the drones is comin' from Tuxedo on, when I pull up rockin' a cummerbund Niggas pull up actin' all weird – now where you comin' from? Nigga, sip whatever you want, I'm Wray and Nephew rum Impossible to count niggas' pocket – what is you niggas, dumb? I group up niggas in ten, attackin' all of 'em And murk a couple niggas in groups, now what's the total sum? My first album 'The Coming' and see I only come I was inspired by Trill Burger, the homie Bun You talk too much, lil' nigga, now you's a total bum The first to franchise rapper fast food as the only one Yes indeed Maseo Black Thought Pos Plug Won Mike G Afrika Busta Rhyme Talib Kweli J. Rawls 'The Confidence of Knowing'