The Roots - Sacrifice lyrics

rate me

Listen, I got you phobic off of this like arachnids

Drastic, it ain't plastic it's Pro-Blackness

Grown man tactics, no pediatrics

the kind of track that make the comeback miraculous

the catalyst, Thought with the knack for splashin'

I'm dashin' I mastered the craft of mashin'

The level-headed throughbred, the female's passion

Mag-netic attraction be keepin' them askin'

The crews in the Cadillacs with the Pendergrassin'

Swerve half-naked, won't come near crashin'

But if I go to heaven, would y'all know my name

or would it be the same for you like I was Eric Clapton, huh?

Clap for you freedom dog, that's what's happening

My spit take critical political action

The hustle is a puzzle each piece is a fraction

And every word that's understood is a transaction

I'm an S.P. soldier, microphone holder

Rep Philly set from Bolivia to Boulder

Paris, France to Tip and Tioga

How we gonna make it through the dark, I show ya

I tell you one lesson I learned

If you want to be something in life

You ain't gonna get it unless

You give a little bit of sacrifice

Ooohh, sometimes before you smile you got to cry

You need a heart that's filled with music

If you use it you can fly

If you want to be high

Listen, yo kick off your shoes, jump off the jock

I fly higher than them dudes, from off your block

My name Black, the style is unorthodox

It tap chins in your mens 'til you thought could box

A couple of people wanted Thought to stop, but guess what?

My man grab the missile, plug for the gut

Now next time beatty stop being such a glut

I'm precise with it like Faheim with haircuts

We up close on 'em with toast but no crust

It's fructose on 'em they froze and won't bust

Choke on your face you jewels is lacklust

Got to put it to you straight, y'all fools is jacked up

Came close to the upmost but no cigar

Nose to the grindstone, head to the stars

The number one runner with the number one drummer

Grammy award winnin' it's the world's eighth wonder

Come on

Your first impression might be I'm a asshole

Or say I'm sometimey and give people a hassle

Or try to suntouch and put the heat in the capsule

Dog I'm far deeper than that though; I get in the zone

Recognize I'm a rolling stone

No time to lollygag or lounge with scaliwags

Give me the disc or I put it where your body at

Old school spit flow laid over Trotter tracks

With no apology fraud or trick-knowledgy

Just trust, what I see and I say and follow me my way

I read an open booklet inside me

The star of the story that groove teller got me

Through all the dark times part of the business

The light be contingent on small forensics

My microphone'll make a man a newborn infant

It's true so the crew gon' sense it

I get in the zone

The fact of the matter is a matter of fact....