{*opening the same as the break from Lords of the Underground's "Funky Child"*}

[Talib Kweli]
The year is 1975, Brooklyn, New York City
A child destined for greatness is born
Let's go

Get your hands in the air (get 'em up)
Put your hands in the air (put 'em up)
Get your hands in the air (get 'em up)
Put your hands in the air (put 'em up)

[Refrain]
Talk shit now (now... now... now... )
Talk shit now (now... now... now... )
Talk shit now (now... now... now... )
Talk shit now (now... now... now... )
Talk shit now (now... now... now... )
Say something, say something (what was that)
Say something (I dare you), say something

[Talib Kweli]
+The Lord Chief Rocka+ I'm colder than meatlockers
My people keep throwin it up like cheap vodka
I smack internet MC's and beat bloggers
You can see my +Black Thought+ like 'Riq Trotter
It's deep, go ahead and sleep, they know in the street
Kwe' gon flow on the beat proper composin complete operas
Longer than a cigar that's Godfather
Tappin' two heart chakras, I'm harder than Gobstoppers
People comin for the throne not knowin the seat hotter
Than fish grease, criminal names on police blotters
You convinced me, I hit targets like top shotters
Out in the mideast like Muslims takin Shahada
I'm sayin makin' a profit, a product of Reaganomics
Awake and I'm stayin conscious to radio playin garbage (yeh!)
Blacksmith Music, if you don't pay homage
I'mma show you how we break an artist
That's a threat, I'm not makin a promise
Speak to the people like Barack Obama
They worship like the black Madonna, c'mon
N***as talk shit, but they ain't got skills
I'm the type of n***a to put lead in your grill
Number two pencil is sharper to bruise mentals, and
Beatin in my chest is the heart of a true gentleman
Still spit right in your face
Fuck a Top 8, back up, gimme my space, you're not safe
Word up Talib Kweli Lord of the Underground
Year of the Blacksmith we keeping it classic
Let's go

[Refrain]

[Talib Kweli]
We not fallin' for your trick cause your image is like a gimmick
Forget it every rhyme is bitten, you like a mimic
I'm talkin' to the Lord and I'm askin' him for forgiveness
Just for kickin' n***as out the club like Michael Richards
Yeah I admit, I'm guilty, the way I spit is filthy
I keep it gritty so they get it they feel me, the flow
Is known for touchin' the soul of street hustlers
I speak in the language they know I keep customers
The writin' therapeutic, it's due to the pain and sufferin'
While these dudes get it confused and abuse the creative substance
I'm givin you a contact high, my name buzzin'
And I came in the game with nothin'
All these rappers sound the same with the yay
They pumpin how they spraying something
Just cuz your lips are flapping don't mean you saying something (word)
Make sure you don't get it twisted and never make assumptions (no)
I don't compete with emcees I'm way above 'em
My competition is non-condition time's running out
The clock is ticking my stock is risen
The plot just thickened
The story is reaching the climax when will he end it
You can't be offended if you authentic
I'm not dissin no coast or region
I'm just saying I'm hunting emcees and it open season
[Refrain]

[Jean Grae]
N***a to N***a to N***a to N***a to N***a huuh
N***a I said N***a hauh N***a N***a N***a N***a rawp I'm Jean Jean
N***a N***a N***a N***a N***a N***a N***a N***a N***a N***a N***a N***a
Whooo N***a N***a N***a N***a N***a Nig-Nig-Nig-Nig-N***a whooo N***a
Awww N***a N***a to N***a to N***a to N***a wooo
Yea say something now N***a N***a N***a N***a to N***a to N***a to N***a
I'm a N***a a N***a yo a N***a look at the N***a
Say N***a to N***a N***a N***a N***a a N***a to N***a to N***a N***a N***a
Say something N***a uhh talk shit