The Roots

The Roots - The Lesson Pt. 1 lyrics

rate me

Lyrically versatile

My rap definition is wild

I wrote graffiti as a juvenile

Restin on deuce trey

And used to boost gray Kangol's

with 555 Soul's from the streets

of the Ill-a-delphiadaic insane

For monetary gain, niggaz is slain on the train

It's homicide

For wealth stealth missions for crack

In the alleyways, where niggaz get grazed in the back

From stray shots

Clips with hollow tips, for your spine or

Either remain calm, catch a rhyme, to your mind

Niggaz ya know my style

I run a--motherfuckin-rap--muk

When Malik get a U-Haul truck

I stand five, foot seven, in command of the party

and scam like Uncle Sam

I'm never caught up in the glass eye

of your action cam, cause I'm down low

Artistic exquisite rap pro, that get the dough

It's the Philly borough dread

thoroughbread for dolo

I bag solo, like a nigga that boost Polo

Steppin through the corridor, of metaphors

Lookin over my left

Shoulder the mic, still feel colder than before

With this jazz shit I hit your jaw

Dice Raw, get up on the mic, my young poor

I be the nigga blowin up the spot on tour

Surely real to the core, old school like eighty-four

I never die, and raps till my lungs collapse

Then relax until my knack for tracks

Bring it back, on time

When I rhyme my rep remain

Either go against the grain or your ass is found slain

I overcome, niggaz want styles then I throw you some

Show you some, get on the mic and take it over son

Dice Raw, the motherfuckin Wild Noid

Get on the mic and perpetratin is void

Ya leave niggaz missin in action like their dads in the projects

My style like an old mac, travel round and catch wreck

I'm ill versatile, with the skill no more

Wack MC's wanna flex but their styles they bore

Got to know the real meaning of the ill shit, kid

I do mad damage but never will catch a bid

With my knapsack, full of ill shit that I just boosted

From the corner store when I let loose more

Flavor that's me, rippin heads off from the seams

Niggaz didn't play like Jeru and Come Clean

Or 808's cause my style flows out great

And superspectac, with all the raw rap

Pull a metal chair out my knapsack across your back ka-crack

Now do you feel the pain of course

I guess you're believin that I'm insane

When I'm taggin my name, upon the train I got so much pride

I got so much soul, with lyrics high

To make niggaz stop drop and roll, now check me out one time

For your ass, fat styles equivalent

of an AIDS infected Glock blast

Niggaz know my style, plus they know they want more

Props from Mount Vernon, to Mount Rushmore

OK kid, you know my style is buckwild literature

That you can never get when I'm thinkin your particular

flavor that you want

I sit back and smoke a fat blunt in class

Teachers can kiss my ass, I'm twice, Dice

Nigga de Raw, never take a bad fall

Smack your head up against the wall

Like playin handball, my style's ill

I slam like Hulk Hogan, Dice Raw bettin on my arm

Niggaz know my slogan while I breathe your last breath

Niggaz better watch they step, fat bull catch wreck

Ill, gots ta keep you in check

With the hellified beats and hard rhymes

Niggaz know my style, when I go the whole nine

I beat down punks, cut em up into fruit chunks

Like fruit salad, my style's smooth like white owl

Blunts, so whatcha want if you got beef then come get it

if ya don't well then forget it

My rap style's exquisite, I'm Raw Daddy

Like niggaz with no Trojans on the stage when I rhyme

I gots ta keep, my composure

Where I'm from it's like a whole different world

Hoppin a train honeydip and I'ma snatch your squirrel

Most corrupt, motherfucker in the tenth grade

Juvenile cause Jeff McKay could not fade

Don't ask me honey I'm not the one for stressin

If you wanna know better ask BR.O.Th.E.R ?

Cause he know the time like I know the time

When I grab the microphone

It's like, summertime, laid back, to recline

In my La-Z-Boy chair

Dice Raw, the Wild Noid

I'm the fuck up outta here

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