Marco Polo - Palookas lyrics

[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]