{*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 sh** now (now... now... now... )
Talk sh** now (now... now... now... )
Talk sh** now (now... now... now... )
Talk sh** now (now... now... now... )
Talk sh** 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 m**ms 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 sh**, but they ain't got sk**s
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
f** a Top 8, back up, gimme my space, you're not safe
{*Lords of the Underground horn break again*}
Hahahaha
Yeah, they say I'm back, but I ain't go nowhere though
Been here the whole time
Where you been, you back
Matter fact, apologize
[Refrain]
[Jean Grae]
Yeah, open your mouth, say somethin', I f**in' dare you
Chokin' you out 'til you can't s** any air through
f** with your man too, thinkin' I can't do what I plan to
Vet vandal, n***as are brand new
Ain't knew I was bad news, look at the tattoos
Get ran through like you was fingers through Sa**oon
Horror chick in the bathroom, off the backstage room
sh** you couldn't imagine, n***a I'll hara** you
I'll Ras Ka** you, Soul on Ice and body cast dude
Past due, Jean and Kwe' the last two action heroes
Actually had the capacity, to be the ones in a cla** of zeroes
Hip-hop's not dead, it was on vacation
We back, we bask in the confrontation
You can ask me, have any conversation
You talk sh**, Blacksmith, Jean, I'm waitin' n***a
[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', stop frontin' n***a
Talk sh** now
[Outro - over LOTUG break again]
The year of the Blacksmith is not defined by any calendar
Just thought I'd remind all you challengers
Get the name right, Talib Kweli, BKMC, say it again
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)