作曲 : A.P. Thompson/L. Ron Hubbard (Chorus: Kweli & Dice Raw) Downtown everybody move to the beat Uptown everybody moving the heat Cross-town the party where both sides meet Eastside, westside, there's always beef (X2) (Kweli) I tattoo the page with the permanent ink Mr. Rourke on your Fantasy Island The umbrella in your tropical drinks Still run it up it, liquor in your cup ******* you up Hang over the banister You feel the rush of the blood going straight to your brain Ain't no love, you only love bringing hate to the game Taking my name in vain, mistaking license for freedom He make music for the people, people dying to meet him People! We still abuse it, while the rich is made of music He probably driving a Buick and be rocking van--? G-U-E relevant, see how his man do it ******* with *******s from illa fifth, see how we ran through it The river in the valley The ******* in the alley Rolling with the heat from BK to killer Cali The hands will fake the clapping You'll be collasping You softer than the land on legs Transforming the landscape Like a sandstorm in the Sahara I am the truest ******* I do more shows than The Roots to Carol Lewis Creative artist, never play the targets of game hunters You may want to test this product like cane smugglers Dis disco *******t Popping like Crisco Hitting your face Spit in your face like pistol *******t My style, wild like wipple whip I go back like a pistol grip It's pro-black, Kweli! (Chorus w/o Kweli) (Black Thought) I'm a FED like Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms Willy gank, spit the killer dank dialogue Pyro-maniac like Dr. Molotov I knock the bottle off And knock the model off Gots some non-believers here Some how I'll save y'all Or stop y'all worries, you makin me vexed Hit up gekko, this ain't got gold correct I'll ******* bounty hunt your body like I'm Boba Fett Cause you a toy not a soldier yet You better hold your neck You ******* smokers get no respect With the blood, ice your watch, rock your rocks Better rock it on the screen and not the blocks Cuz them crews don't stop them shots It's so many that fly, they chase down, I just stop and watch I'm from the south side of philly, it's known to get gruesome Heavy hitter villians these alleyways produce them Heavy hitter on a pocket we find a way to juice them They may as well pay, schmuck Introducing the B-to L-A see me the king splitter Then *******yze this dime, the main thing glitter Then *******yze the taste in your mouth, it seem bitter Ganster, valid ******* torian, graduate of I dare you If you are paper thin I'm a tear you I'm a come take care of you put a part in your hairdo You barking like I'm a starting to scare you But speak up like a man ******* so your body guards can hear you
作曲 : A.P. Thompson/L. Ron Hubbard (Chorus: Kweli & Dice Raw) Downtown everybody move to the beat Uptown everybody moving the heat Cross-town the party where both sides meet Eastside, westside, there's always beef (X2) (Kweli) I tattoo the page with the permanent ink Mr. Rourke on your Fantasy Island The umbrella in your tropical drinks Still run it up it, liquor in your cup ******* you up Hang over the banister You feel the rush of the blood going straight to your brain Ain't no love, you only love bringing hate to the game Taking my name in vain, mistaking license for freedom He make music for the people, people dying to meet him People! We still abuse it, while the rich is made of music He probably driving a Buick and be rocking van--? G-U-E relevant, see how his man do it ******* with *******s from illa fifth, see how we ran through it The river in the valley The ******* in the alley Rolling with the heat from BK to killer Cali The hands will fake the clapping You'll be collasping You softer than the land on legs Transforming the landscape Like a sandstorm in the Sahara I am the truest ******* I do more shows than The Roots to Carol Lewis Creative artist, never play the targets of game hunters You may want to test this product like cane smugglers Dis disco *******t Popping like Crisco Hitting your face Spit in your face like pistol *******t My style, wild like wipple whip I go back like a pistol grip It's pro-black, Kweli! (Chorus w/o Kweli) (Black Thought) I'm a FED like Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms Willy gank, spit the killer dank dialogue Pyro-maniac like Dr. Molotov I knock the bottle off And knock the model off Gots some non-believers here Some how I'll save y'all Or stop y'all worries, you makin me vexed Hit up gekko, this ain't got gold correct I'll ******* bounty hunt your body like I'm Boba Fett Cause you a toy not a soldier yet You better hold your neck You ******* smokers get no respect With the blood, ice your watch, rock your rocks Better rock it on the screen and not the blocks Cuz them crews don't stop them shots It's so many that fly, they chase down, I just stop and watch I'm from the south side of philly, it's known to get gruesome Heavy hitter villians these alleyways produce them Heavy hitter on a pocket we find a way to juice them They may as well pay, schmuck Introducing the B-to L-A see me the king splitter Then *******yze this dime, the main thing glitter Then *******yze the taste in your mouth, it seem bitter Ganster, valid ******* torian, graduate of I dare you If you are paper thin I'm a tear you I'm a come take care of you put a part in your hairdo You barking like I'm a starting to scare you But speak up like a man ******* so your body guards can hear you
