| All the way live, from two-one-five |
| kid, two-one-five, two-one-five |
| What? Black Thought in the house |
| Representin the Roots, y’all know how we do |
| Proceed Beatminerz remix one time for your mind |
| It’s on |
| Yo, I never sweat it, it’s all copacetic |
| In this lyrical profession rappers I discredit |
| It’s fact that a fraction of the rap population |
| is pathetic not thorough |
| Here come the kid that’s got it like Al Jarreau |
| I restin in the wild burough where it’s |
| all realism never fiction |
| And ghettoes is forever friction |
| Clash for cash gettin status and crabs is froze |
| caught up in the mixing |
| The mic’s my only apparatus |
| And with it I got rappers paranoid |
| Lyrical freakazoid, leapin out the terror void |
| Guard your era it’s the Black Thought ain’t nothing lesser |
| than the MC oppressor, poetry professor |
| I pound this MC on my dresser got my mind on trauma |
| So my persona’s marijuana most melodic with the melodrama |
| The Ben Frank folder, the mic holder |
| Command it with a planet on my shoulder till the sound’s over |
| Keep it underground my style subterranean |
| Ill Philadelph Pennsylvanian |
| Back on the tour to entertrain again, whoops |
| I meant to say to entertain I’m in a planetary mode |
| Watch as I explode through your area code with dialect |
| Y’all niggaz know the time when the Thought catch wreck |
| Y’all niggaz know the science on the Dice Raw and Malik B |
| Kid I’m nice y’all searchin for a beat |
| It’s the master of literature that’s pure |
| you’re checkin for |
| Coming down I keep it real and hardcore |
| y’all know the score |
| Four four that’s the major, Black Thought I got |
| the flavor you need |
| And I shall proceed |
| I can make you dance, I can make you shout |
| The scripts in the scroll turned the whole party out |
| Inject my lyrics in a sec with dialect |
| Why accept, because it’s from the highest eye and depth |
| Rap extrordinaire share me never ever |
| See through because I be true, Malik’s together |
| Intox your cells till your brain vein swells |
| Niggaz’ll claim terror when their never parellel |
| Once I have a hunch that there’s MC’s that front |
| I just crunched a whole bunch, in one big munch |
| I always stand firm, under any term |
| My actions never squirm cuz my tracks is perm |
| I have a tendency to defend this MC |
| My residency is simply in sensei |
| I makes it vivid, on different continents of Earth I pivot |
| It seems extreme and exquisite but ask it is it |
| My style is like a cat from a seventies flick |
| Talkin jive as he strut with his afro pick |
| Or a predator, just before he stalks his pray |
| When I talk this way, I do dismay |
| See you’re puzzled, now how I think you’re trying to juggle |
| My mind is like a nine M double, now there’s trouble |
| The Roots bring you styles and all types of creed |
| I sign off but I shall proceed |