[Intro - Talib Kweli - talking]
This feel like one of them TV shows from the '60's
Oh, oh, oh, you can try (when the flight come in)
Oh, you can, can certainly try (when the flight arrives)
Hey, murder, murder
Yes, (cause what we do), cla**ic version
(What we do), cla**ic version
Yeah, we represent, yeah
[Verse 1 - Talib Kweli]
My music represent the change in powers
From now on this thing is ours, got 'em paintin war instead of paintin flowers
They shower they heroes with praises, while we hangin ours
We bring the drums to the battle cause we bang the loudest
You don't know a thing about it, if you mixing King or Malcolm
Bet you that Kweli the outcome, album's so hot, that my ghetto chicks is bringin talcum
Whether you sing or shout it
They gave somebody else the crown but I'm the King without it
Your Queen is ridin with me, she's always slidin with me
You can't stop me like the bullets that's inside of 50
They try to diss me but whenever I say "bye", they miss me
You walkin with me or you alien like Mork & Mindy
You talkin with me if they often envy
Take it off the table and the Devil run a label cause the Lord is with me
Arrogance bring the fall of many
My name echo like the hall is empty, you don't wanna a war against me
[Hook - Talib Kweli]
Hey, if this the cut, I'm the surgeon
Assa**inate your character, cast aspersions
You ain't got a verse better than my worst one (worst one)
You ain't got a verse better than my worst one (worst one)
Hey, I know it hurts son
But you against me, a .50 Cal verse a squirt gun
You ain't got a verse better than my worst one
You ain't got a verse better than my worst one
[Verse 2 - Talib Kweli]
Why? You and your man some palookas, you scared of my medulla
You see beyond the shadow of a doubt, I'm born ready, steady as the hand of the shooter
In the flesh, yes, the embodiment of man verse computer
I make all the women abandon they suitors
Do the math, you see you can't measure up to the ruler
Word, on behalf of all the fans and consumers
I'm buildin with Fred Hampton Jr., man we plannin a future
Not preachin, we do it different, we liftin the youth up
We spittin it too tough, too sick for these new thugs
Or goons, whatever they called, they softer than nubuck
Vampires in the club, sippin that "True Blood"
I'm a "Midnight Marauder" and a slaughter for the "Tribe"
Or mortal line, bustin at the cops like Mortal Kai
The sort of guy that mortify
These clown a** rappers since 45 live
And you know it man
[Hook]
[Verse 3 - Sean Price]
Yo, Sean Price, mad nice, accept that
My worst verse sound like your best rap
Put on your bent plaque, I pay double on trips
I punch you, up in your face and double your lips
This be the dumbest sh** I ever wrote
No 2Pac Shakur, just two shots, ya floored
Listen, the gun clapper, the dumb rapper, the young rapper
Dig in your pockets and leave with your funds faster
f**in new rap rookies
Get beat to d**h, New Jack Pookie
Face f**ed with the H stuck in your grill
Play tough and get scrapped up in the 'ville
Afro-American minus the afro
Bald-headed American lettin the gat blow
Shut the f** up before you get hurt son
You ain't got a verse better than my worst one
[Hook]