Will.I.Am - Say Something (alt version) lyrics

{*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 Word up Talib Kweli Lord of the Underground Year of the Blacksmith we keeping it cla**ic Let's go [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' All these rappers sound the same with the yay They pumpin how they spraying something Just cuz your lips are flapping don't mean you saying something (word) Make sure you don't get it twisted and never make a**umptions (no) I don't compete with emcees I'm way above 'em My competition is non-condition time's running out The clock is ticking my stock is risen The plot just thickened The story is reaching the climax when will he end it You can't be offended if you authentic I'm not dissin no coast or region I'm just saying I'm hunting emcees and it open season [Refrain] [Jean Grae] n***a to n***a to n***a to n***a to n***a huuh n***a I said n***a hauh n***a n***a n***a n***a rawp I'm Jean Jean n***a n***a n***a n***a n***a n***a n***a n***a n***a n***a n***a n***a Whooo n***a n***a n***a n***a n***a Nig-Nig-Nig-Nig-n***a whooo n***a Awww n***a n***a to n***a to n***a to n***a wooo Yea say something now n***a n***a n***a n***a to n***a to n***a to n***a I'm a n***a a n***a yo a n***a look at the n***a Say n***a to n***a n***a n***a n***a a n***a to n***a to n***a n***a n***a Say something n***a uhh talk sh**