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, its not be natural as the grass
Hail the exit-in and lets 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 dabll do ya
Your butts to the cuts dig the buds of my killa
Rememberin the hot, dolla parties of the cellar
Im deep, ghetto child of some chocolate, complected
Groovy head to toe, plus crazy cooler than vanilla
I catch a slap five from my man, thats my mellow
Unique style I speak be the goods that I petal
Im stoned blam, to the known, known around the city
Of philly thats my home, for makin wack rappers settle
It bein that Im 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 Im not amazed
Cause I pays no, mind and lift the roof off the, mutha
Just because Im out deah
I say peace to all my peoples who be out deah
To hip cats and nappy sweets youre crazy out deah
Just like my foreign objects because youre out deah
Just like that sister? you know youre out deah
Just like the man, manifest, you know youre out deah
Just like my cousin shawn g, youre crazy out deah
To butterfly like dat, you know youre out deah
To get up out!
Brainiac, blacks the mind, color funk, fuse the gut
I catch the whats when I kick it
Mysterious the maker of the raps crazy naps so I lacks
The cut, and got a fro but cant pick it
C-nots my nigga knows the news of the nappy cats
Crowns and kicks, and how it ease the mind
Yo freak freak ya dont ya dont stop
Cause the roots got the body rock shit
With the twist for your spine, bring it back, uhh!
Fat is my flow thats fluidic
The critics aint 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 couldnt live with him cool, with that out we gon sprout
The record of the roots to show my attitude is out
Im on some crazy linear shit, takin a hit during my set
To let, these niggaz know what Im about
Im all about the funk, thats relaxed for your state of mind
Snaps is cool, if layin back is the ever
The unity of bootsees grin, growin, cause the juice began
As just deuce, groovy flaves that taste, blam together
I likes that, so doin bobby mick, aint ridic, to this
In fact, thats 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 Im out deah
Just like the group the rhythmic tricks because youre out deah
And the group the soul plants yeah youre out deah
Just like I said, remedy is crazy out deah
To? and tin-tin, I think youre out deah
And to my son whose name is crumbs you know youre out deah
Im black thought to the beat and yo Im out deah
And yo my group is called the roots because were 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-alitys
Lo-cality, vo-cality, low calorie not
I got the fat shit yall
I got the fat shit yall
I got the fat shit yall
I got the fat, shit, yall.