Rock on with me, palms itchy, calm-ly I'm just gon kick it on the Afrocentric ganja beat That's cause it's dope and I'm open from here to Oakland You mope and my emotions seep into ya hemoglobin But ugh, no pain or agony no scary sh** like Halloween If a n***a gossip he just get alot of magazines From people in the hood, good, that's the craze They don't like you so they crop you out the picture like a slave With the cotton, a lot of people gotten spoiled rotten My race, by itself, reawake the downtrodden Jotting, all these lines of my Oblongata And I do what I gotta, f**ing google Bambaataa We revolutionary, to all these liars, man the truth is scary Beauty only flows in the open like a loose canary My crew apparently is bringing it back And we ain't singing we rap, let me sling you this crack [Hook] So, that pop stuff ain't no future in that I swear we gotta rock on for the future of rap, (x4) [Verse Two] I feel like putting on some ice tonight And I'mma cop it long as the Sean Price is right Fly I'm nice in flight, prove me that rice is white Just gon creep up on you n***as like a lice in night Chill, slightly disgusting, my combustion, will function Over a luncheon, where percussion beats with ba** until concussions Diagnosed, crying hosts, try the most, grimy quotes Were given at the moment of a Romney or Ryan vote I'm maintaining all my fame and I'm aiming For a future where all slavery can gain the proclaiming Of emancipation, my transformation as an artist Attributed to all them n***as with me since I started On my path, do the math, I'm exponently potent Let it be noted, that my poet gun is infinitely loaded With decoded, messages of effortless lyrics I don't eff with all your music but I mess with your spirit