[Intro]
Welcome to The Roots!
The Roots!

[Black Thought]
Check it, check it, Black Thought, is in the house
And uhh, Malik B, is in the house
We're groovin' out, we're groovin' out, yes, in the house
Roy Ayers, is in the house

Yo, my man, my mellow my man
Yo, my man, yo, my man
Just get on the mic with your master plan

[Verse 1: Malik B]
I can make you dance, I can make you shout
The scripts in the scroll turn the whole party out
Inject my lyrics in a sec with dialect
Why accept? Because it's from the highest eye and depth
Rap extraordinaire, share me never, ever
See-through because I be true, Malik's together
Intox' your cells 'til your brain vein swells
N***as'll claim terror when they're never parallel
Once I have a hunch to diss MC's that front
I just crunch the whole bunch in one big munch
I always stand firm, under any term
My actions never squirm 'cause my tracks is perm'
I have a tendency to defend this MC
My residency is simply in Pensy
I makes it vivid, on different continents of Earth I pivot
It seems extreme and exquisite, but ask it: is it?
My style is like a cat from a '70s flick
Talkin' jive as he strut with his Afro pick
Or a predator just before he stalks his prey
When I talk this way, I do dismay
See, you're puzzled, now, how I think you're tryin' to juggle
My mind is like a 9m-double, now there's trouble
The Roots bring you styles and all types of creed
I sign off but I shall proceed
[Hook x4]
I shall proceed and continue to rock the mic

[Verse 2: Black Thought]
Yo, we could get fly, we could get fly
We could get fly, that's the anthem of my... crew
Not to glorify, but it's sorta high
Troubles of the world bring tears to my eye, wonder why?
My man can't vaccinate, y'all know the fate
Similar to the way I'm a disease on tape
Within a world of hate, many mics I rape
To escape metropolis in such a violent state
I spill words over pages, styles over phrases
From the world's different stages, for crowds of different ages
Though not a nova, you Witness like Jehovah
How n***as beg for lyrical plague to pass 'em over
Right? Right! N***as is like stick-up kids doin' bids
You got caught, enter the Black Thought
I interface with bass when I communicate
Crowds I elevate to another mind-state of rap thinkin'
See, musically the Black thinkin' izm
Therefore, I give 'em what I'm givin'
Therefore, I give 'em what I'm givin' — that's the hardcore
The Roots'll keep it real for sure, and I shall proceed

[Hook x4]
I shall proceed and continue to rock the mic
[Outro x9]
Rockin' on the microphone, I do this well

*crowd cheers*
The Roots, The Roots!