Tytuł: Proceed 3

• Wykonawca: The Roots
• Wyświetleń: 287

Rock on, to the break of dawn
   Freak on to the early morn
   Khadafi and Sue-kwon, you got it goin on
   To my man Big Shawn, you got it goin on, now, yo
   You got The Roots in the house
   We also got Bahamadia in the house, representin lovely
   With you ears now proceed
   It's flavor you wouldn't believe as we proceed
  
   Chorus:
  
   I shall... proceed... and continue... to rock the mic (2X)
  
   Verse One: Malik B
  
   Let's, kill all the small talk, and just elaborate
   The Roots collaborate I see myself as rather great
   How the words generate, whole crews disintergrate
   when I pentrate
   As if in the course flow with intensive force
   You best to go and check your source about my textual course
   Simplicity, it sounds complex, you might miss it
   But after you critique it you can kiss it
   I'm assissting fire force that leaves statistics
   When identify niggaz simplify you'll feel no sympathi
   My lyrics send you on a permanent excursion
   I never would decide when your lifespan was submergin
   My style is urban not surburban when I'm splurgin
   Gosh these MC's I wash more than detergent
   I can split the Red Sea but deadly
   Take heed, illadelph style as I proceed
  
   Chorus
  
   Verse Two: Bahamadia
  
   Bahamadia hits the melodies mellowly
   Brand new, funk doobie, choosy with the tactics
   when I gets Raw, like Dice, nice
   with the flavor, Do You Want More?!!!??!
   Of the Organix, pure
   Eargasmatic, from Distortion to Statics
   Automatic, systematic
   I'm nasty at it
   So hand me the five micraphones like they did Illmatic
   One time for the mind
   Rhyme be coming from an illadelph state of mind
   The real is not whole or half time
   all the time, and I shall proceed
   I'm movin on baby, I shall proceed
   To remain, on point like an infrared beam
   Succeed, in chasing out the ultraviolet dreams
   No Mas like Shorty, cuz it's all about me
  
   Chorus
  
   Verse Three: Black Thought
  
   Black and handsome, holdin MC's for ransome
   Thoughts command some, is this, a phantom?
   Crews I mangle, y'all know my anthem ain't the Star Spangled
   I hit you from the most bizarre angle, rectangular
   visions of papes my mind conceive
   Motivatin me to acheive as I must proceed
   when I ride the train, traumatized to maintain
   but laid back, the tracks can relax the brain
   I got to deal with everything on this intelligent plain
   Servin as a killer
   to the pain I live a High Life like Miller
   Me and the mic's mechanized
   Respect recognize with mind beyond wise
   Limitless when I bless the mic with speak
   Dialect never weak, y'all niggaz know Tarik
   From seven-fifth Snider Ave. got the flavor you need
   For the ingredients indeed so to the lead I shall proceed
  
   Chorus