Talib Kweli
5 AM in Brooklyn
[Intro]
Y’all n***as soft, b, y’all n***as soft, b, you’re spoiled
Used to be you had to go look for your hip-hop
Now it’s served to you on a silver fucking platter
Now y’all n***as overly concerned with how a n***a look
What a n***a wear, who a n***a fuck
That’s soft shit, b
What part of the game is that? Aye
But I love these n***as
I approach all my n***as with love, man
I approach all these n***as with love, man
Yeah
Why? Why?

[Verse]
Love never fails, fuck your fairy tales
I’m never scared, plus I do this rap shit very well
I aim to let my shit bang, turn the levels up
Party over for you n***as, time to settle up
All of a sudden y’all wanna know my opinion
But a n***a been official I’m holding down my position
Looking for the answers, ain’t no solution, there’s not a problem
They tryna turn up, my catalogue speaks volumes
When I say I’m a man of the people I really mean it
I don’t just mean the people that I agree with
Now I could probably use some tact and some proper diction
But that’s why I’m an artist, not a politician
And that’s why I’m the hardest regardless
If you think I’m a Prisoner of Conscious I illicit certain responses
To make me the poorest choice to be backed by a corporate sponsor
So I'm independent as fuck and my Company Flow gets Rawkus
Sometimes I get exhausted, there ain’t no rest for the weary
I never forfeit, I’m ill until the coffin
It’s lower than to the ground they say the lion left a pawprint
Body of work is so vast, so enormous
Y’all n***as ain’t about shit, get your mouth split
Blood dripping all out your lip, on your outfit
Talking all that loud shit, I’m thorough as you say you are
N***as twist your words so I gotta watch what I say on blogs
These n***as leaving comments, but they scared to at me
Put in the work that I put in and then holla at me
I got love for every artist, I’m more than just a product
I’ve been a prisoner, see Mumia, I’ve been to Cuba to see Assata
Way before Mr. and Mrs. Carter went on a dinner date
I had to send the lyrics ahead of time before I hit the stage
So scrutiny is not new to me I just usually
Only respect the opinion of those suggesting unity
Love hip-hop, stop it I don’t believe you
And loving hip-hop don’t got nothing to do with either
Caught up in the gossip and rumors you not consuming
So I’m shitting on these n***as like Revenge of Montezuma
If you demand it trust the market will supply it
They complain about the music, but they never fucking buy it
I kinda get it though, we asking them to cop it
And they probably like, “Why? You waking up in a new Bugatti”
Shout to Future, this for my chicks who rocking the Scotts with the poodle
And party like Adam Scott on Hulu
Set to wake these n***as up like cock-a-doodle-doo
‘Cause my spit more ludicrous than Shaka Zulu
These pseudo-intellectual metrosexuals try to confuse you
And knock you off your schedule putting death on a pedestal
But rhyming describes the times that ricin was sent to federal buildings
By cowards capitalizing on our confusion
Now we trapped in speculation the caterpillar the butterfly
Who get blinded by the light while they stripping us of our rights
I'm not giving up on the fight or set ‘em up with the left
Then knock ‘em out with the right
I be rocking the shit for life, yeah
[Outro]
Prisoner of Conscious
Javotti Media
5 AM in Brooklyn