[Black Thought] Uhh.. the molecular mass of that rhythmic ass grass is organic hip-hop jazz that you are all about to witness Groovy units check it owwwwt.. The nappy cat, Black Thought, digs the NasteeFatJazz Artifacts and cardiac cerebral action Retro is my Roots for my peoples with the plats and braids are twist clean, cuts or fros beneath the hats and do the dance, does I boogie backs to relax -- I does Concentrate, it's not be natural as the grass Hail the exit-in and let's begin yo take a dip and soul I spill the normal knot yo kid I got that for your ass Slips and I drips like butta Melodic mad noise if you dig it peace to ya If not, catch a lift to the level of my mental for a smidgen of my spirit just a little dab'll do ya Your butts to the cuts dig the buds of my killa Rememberin the hot, dolla parties of the cellar I'm deep, ghetto child of some chocolate, complected groovy head to toe, plus crazy cooler than vanilla I catch a slap five from my man, that's my mellow Unique style I speak be the goods that I petal I'm stoned blam, to the known, known around the city of Philly that's my home, for makin wack rappers settle It bein that I'm blem, kid I kicks, in the mix Rhythm be the quick, fix from the sticks of my Brother A lot of kids, diss these days I'm not amazed cause I pays no, mind and lift the roof off the, mutha Just because I'm out deah I say peace to all my peoples who be out deah To hip cats and nappy sweets you're crazy out deah Just like my Foreign Objects because you're out deah Just like that sister ? you know you're out deah Just like the man, Manifest, you know you're out deah Just like my cousin Shawn G, you're crazy out deah To Butterfly like dat, you know you're out deah to get up out! Brainiac, Black's the mind, color funk, fuse the gut I catch the what's when I kick it Mysterious the maker of the raps crazy naps so I lacks the cut, and got a fro but can't pick it C-Not's my nigga knows the news of the nappy cats Crowns and kicks, and how it ease the mind Yo freak freak ya don't ya don't stop Cause The Roots got the body rock shit with the twist for your spine, bring it back, UHH! Fat is my flow that's fluidic The critics ain't with it, then their domes is beneath We be the Funk, Four mind as one umm, Crumbs umm he told us peace, it was against his beliefs We couldn't live with him cool, with that out we gon' sprout the record of The Roots to show my attitude is out I'm on some crazy linear shit, takin a hit during my set to let, these niggaz know what I'm about I'm all about the funk, that's relaxed for your state of mind Snaps is cool, if layin back is the ever The unity of Bootsee's grin, growin, cause the juice began as just deuce, groovy flaves that taste, blam together I likes that, so doin Bobby Mick, ain't ridic', to this In fact, that's the pen, hey yo direct from The Tunnels Never Never via satellite Here comes The Roots, now dig the shits I said To all my peoples, cause I'm out deah Just like the group The Rhythmic Tricks because you're out deah And the group The Soul Plants yeah you're out deah Just like I said, Remedy is crazy out deah To ? and Tin-Tin, I think you're out deah And to my son whose name is Crumbs you know you're out deah I'm Black Thought to the beat and yo I'm out deah And yo my group is called The Roots because we're out deah to get up out Uhh, abstract organic artistry Thought is he, that I be Gravity does not hold me down As I rise from the ground into sound Melting browns drip like wax Building blocks, nappy cat Blazes acts, filling facts Mental sax, sweet mental sax Sweet mental horn, taking the physical form of a storm of abnorm-ality, re-ality's lo-cality, vo-cality, low calorie NOT I got the fat shit y'all I got the fat shit y'all I got the fat shit y'all I got the fat, shit, y'all..