A Kid Called Roots - Let's Ride lyrics

[Canibus] If you just listen to my lyrics every day for a couple of weeks My techniques will eventually k** you just like red meat The Bhagavad Gita beliefs I speak be so deep Most critics get mad because there's nothing to critique Whenever I'm rapping or rhyming With irrefutably remarkable timing I'm like Charlie Chaplin pantomiming If you John Blaze, or you James Flames Or you Jack Cremation, I'm Germaine Propane (Germaine Propane) No pain no gain in this rap game For the fortune and fame in order to remain Most real MCs learn to adapt to the change Or get washed away like tears in the rain, in the rain y'all [Chorus: Wyclef +Canibus+ (Product) {​​​​Pras}​​​​] Just ride, just ride, ah just ride everybody just ride Just ride, just ride, ah just ride everybody just ride (When you in the streets and you're drivin in your V If you can see what I see, you're prepared for the jackers) +Old school, old school+ {​​​​Everybody got to pack a mac now}​​​​ [Canibus] Yo, if you wanna know, how I kick a flow When I rip a show, with my lyric-al, I'mma let you know It's difficult, cause I'm a part spiritual, part para-physical miracle And I'mma blackout in a minute too Spittin like Bone-Thugs like "n***a-what? I'm-fin-to-get-a-gun and stick-em-up" Then crush a Thug's Bones with a chrome slug The black Cyrano De Bergerac of rap With the ghetto Anglo-Sax' poetic syntax In fact, n***a don't even give me dap when I see you Just don't give me no ice grill eye contact either When you see me, whylin like Beenie on the speakers "Sim Simma-- who got the fire for my reefa?" [Chorus: Product, Pras, Wyclef] [Pro] You came home from a bid a n***a was in your crib And the whole time you thought your girl was celebate [Can] Old school old school [Pras] You locked up and she need some di-ick [Clef] Just ride, just ride, ah just ride e'rybody just ride Just ride in the hood, just ride, all my .. uh, ah just ride [Canibus] Yo physically I move at a velocity That'll break your stopwatch if you clockin me My concrete jungle is like Jumanji Iller than what you seen in the cinema A five-foot-eight n***a with more horsepower than twelve cylinders My brain consists of twin Pentium chips Double the clock speeds of a 586 And nothin about my physical matrix is BASIC I kick flavor beyond what your tongue is capable of tastin You'll be so surprised you won't believe your own eyes It's like a Jamaican seein the snow for the first time Rhymes of a sort, that distort space and time It's like explainin color to a man that was born blind [Chorus: Product] [Pro] Crimes on the street, come from a lack of eatin It's not my cup of tea, but I'll give them the BEST Motherf**in BEST And if you still out here I kick yo' a** tomorrow [Can] Old school, old school (c'mon!) [Pro] And if you still out here, I kick yo' a** tomorrow [Can] Old school, old school (c'mon y'all) [Pro] Frontin like you buyin food but you buyin crack bottles [Wyclef] Ah just ride, ah just ride Everybody in the East just ride Ah just ride, ah just ride Everybody in the West just ride Ah to the South, down South Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Ah just ride