Roots - The Lesson, Pt. 1 lyrics

rate me

Verse One: Black Thought<br />

<br />

Lyrically versatile<br />

My rap definition is wild<br />

I wrote graffiti as a juvenile<br />

Restin on deuce trey<br />

And used to boost gray Kangol's<br />

With 555 Soul's from the streets<br />

Of the Ill-a-delphiadaic insane<br />

For monetary gain, niggaz is slain on the train<br />

It's homicide<br />

For wealth stealth missions for crack<br />

In the alleyways, where niggaz get grazed in the back<br />

From stray shots<br />

Clips with hollow tips, for your spine or<br />

Either remain calm, catch a rhyme, to your mind<br />

Niggaz ya know my style<br />

I run a--motherfuckin-rap--muk<br />

When Malik get a U-Haul truck<br />

I stand five, foot seven, in command of the party<br />

And scam like Uncle Sam<br />

I'm never caught up in the glass eye<br />

Of your action cam, cause I'm down low<br />

Artistic exquisite rap pro, that get the dough<br />

It's the Philly borough dread<br />

Thoroughbread for dolo<br />

I bag solo, like a nigga that boost Polo<br />

Steppin through the corridor, of metaphors<br />

Lookin over my left<br />

Shoulder the mic, still feel colder than before<br />

With this jazz shit I hit your jaw<br />

Dice Raw, get up on the mic, my young poor<br />

I be the nigga blowin up the spot on tour<br />

Surely real to the core, old school like eighty-four<br />

I never die, and raps till my lungs collapse<br />

Then relax until my knack for tracks<br />

Bring it back, on time<br />

When I rhyme my rep remain<br />

Either go against the grain or your ass is found slain<br />

I overcome, niggaz want styles then I throw you some<br />

Show you some, get on the mic and take it over son<br />

Dice Raw, the motherfuckin Wild Noid<br />

Get on the mic and perpetratin is void<br />

<br />

Verse Two: Dice Raw<br />

<br />

Ya leave niggaz missin in action like their dads in the projects<br />

My style like an old mac, travel round and catch wreck<br />

I'm I'll versatile, with the skill no more<br />

Wack MC's wanna flex but their styles they bore<br />

Got to know the real meaning of the I'll shit, kid<br />

I do mad damage but never will catch a bid<br />

With my knapsack, full of I'll shit that I just boosted<br />

From the corner store when I let loose more<br />

Flavor that's me, rippin heads off from the seams<br />

Niggaz didn't play like Jeru and Come Clean<br />

[he heh ha ha ha] I beat down on they heads like drum machines<br />

Or 808's cause my style flows out great<br />

And superspectac, with all the raw rap<br />

Pull a metal chair out my knapsack across your back ka-crack<br />

Now do you feel the pain of course<br />

I guess you're believin that I'm insane<br />

When I'm taggin my name, upon the train I got so much pride<br />

I got so much soul, with lyrics high<br />

To make niggaz stop drop and roll, now check me out one time<br />

For your ass, fat styles equivalent<br />

Of an AIDS infected Glock blast<br />

Niggaz know my style, plus they know they want more<br />

Props from Mount Vernon, to Mount Rushmore<br />

OK kid, you know my style is buckwild literature<br />

That you can never get when I'm thinkin your particular<br />

Flavor that you want<br />

I sit back and smoke a fat blunt in class<br />

Teachers can kiss my ass, I'm twice, Dice<br />

Nigga de Raw, never take a bad fall<br />

Smack your head up against the wall<br />

Like playin handball, my style's ill<br />

I slam like Hulk Hogan, Dice Raw bettin on my arm<br />

Niggaz know my slogan while I breathe your last breath<br />

Niggaz better watch they step, fat bull catch wreck<br />

Ill, gots ta keep you in check<br />

With the hellified beats and hard rhymes<br />

Niggaz know my style, when I go the whole nine<br />

I beat down punks, cut em up into fruit chunks<br />

Like fruit salad, my style's smooth like white owl<br />

Blunts, so whatcha want if you got beef then come get it<br />

If ya don't well then forget it<br />

My rap style's exquisite, I'm Raw Daddy<br />

Like niggaz with no Trojans on the stage when I rhyme<br />

I gots ta keep, my composure<br />

Where I'm from it's like a whole different world<br />

Hoppin a train honeydip and I'ma snatch your squirrel<br />

Most corrupt, motherfucker in the tenth grade<br />

Juvenile cause Jeff McKay could not fade<br />

Don't ask me honey I'm not the one for stressin<br />

If you wanna know better ask BR.O.Th.E.R ?<br />

Cause he know the time like I know the time<br />

When I grab the microphone<br />

It's like, summertime, laid back, to recline<br />

In my La-Z-Boy chair<br />

Dice Raw, the Wild Noid<br />

I'm the fuck up outta here