Ahhhhhhh

Speak my mind
Just to reach your mind
Tap a tempo off the instrumental
Just to get the drum line
You know it's my time
Reel up and rewind
Get off that cheap wine
Swinging on my grapevine
You heard a brother
Worthy to create rhymes
I take it further than a murder
Or I hate crime
Don't hate on me
What have you done for me lately
Beside to baith me assume and mistakenly
Too abstract than a backpack
To super underground with the beats and rats
'Cause I refuse to bust gatts
And wather down my raps
To get me caught up in a trap
And set me years back. Fuck that!

[Mos Def:]
Yeah right from the start
Remember that feeling
The way the hip-hop used to make you feel
So real like
Getting first signed
Then the first time you heard Planet Rock
Word is over, the God
Staten Island, for real, for real

I heard brother say J5, men them niggas ain't shit
Them niggas never slapped no bitch, never inserted a clip
They never claimed thug or a pimp
Them niggas never made the attempt
Hey yo, they ain't all that
Men Six members men and four of them black
What kind of racist statement is that
They need to change their views
Start talking about the clubbing they do
That's the reason we ain't fucking with you
Today's artist is tough
Talking loud, this isn't enough, yeah
Let's talk about the guns you bust
Nigga, the crack you cut
Or all the cars that you bought wholesale
Or the niggas rattling your cold tail
I've been keeping it real
Let's talk about the ash you feel
Now that's the way to get mass appeal
Y'all ain't heard that wow
The brothers ain't feeling your style
You get stoned play over the radio right now

Where we at
Wh...Whe...Wher...Where we at (YA)
Where we at

Don't deny me, diss or austrsize me
'Cause it's likely I'm all up in your sight gee
It's unreal how you deal and threat us
Your bunch of believers
I can tell just by the way you retreat
Cactus is a discreed fact
They heat rap beat gaps but stay of the knee rack
So you could put your seat back
Pick up your feet and bring facts
Rhymes and beats that we create can defeat that weak crap
'Cause your either bling-bliging or your next tails ringing (dring)
Either way it goes, fat baby ain't signing
The game ain't over until we all get shined
I mean you do your thing and I do mine

Writer : EDDIE HARRIS, CHARLES STEWART, COURTENAY HENDERSON, DANTE GIVENS, MARK POTSIC, MARC STUART
Copyright : Lyrics © SEVENTH HOUSE LTD.