[Black Thought]

Uhh.. the molecular mass

of that rhythmic ass grass

is organic hip-hop jazz

that you are all about to witness

Groovy units check it owwwwt..



The nappy cat, Black Thought, digs the NasteeFatJazz

Artifacts and cardiac cerebral action

Retro is my Roots for my peoples with the plats and

braids are twist clean, cuts or fros beneath the hats and

do the dance, does I boogie backs to relax -- I does

Concentrate, it's not be natural as the grass

Hail the exit-in and let's begin yo take a dip and soul

I spill the normal knot yo kid I got that for your ass

Slips and I drips like butta

Melodic mad noise if you dig it peace to ya

If not, catch a lift to the level of my mental for a smidgen

of my spirit just a little dab'll do ya

Your butts to the cuts dig the buds of my killa

Rememberin the hot, dolla parties of the cellar

I'm deep, ghetto child of some chocolate, complected

groovy head to toe, plus crazy cooler than vanilla

I catch a slap five from my man, that's my mellow

Unique style I speak be the goods that I petal

I'm stoned blam, to the known, known around the city

of Philly that's my home, for makin wack rappers settle

It bein that I'm blem, kid I kicks, in the mix

Rhythm be the quick, fix from the sticks of my Brother

A lot of kids, diss these days I'm not amazed

cause I pays no, mind and lift the roof off the, mutha



Just because I'm out deah

I say peace to all my peoples who be out deah

To hip cats and nappy sweets you're crazy out deah

Just like my Foreign Objects because you're out deah

Just like that sister ? you know you're out deah

Just like the man, Manifest, you know you're out deah

Just like my cousin Shawn G, you're crazy out deah

To Butterfly like dat, you know you're out deah

to get up out!



Brainiac, Black's the mind, color funk, fuse the gut

I catch the what's when I kick it

Mysterious the maker of the raps crazy naps so I lacks

the cut, and got a fro but can't pick it

C-Not's my nigga knows the news of the nappy cats

Crowns and kicks, and how it ease the mind

Yo freak freak ya don't ya don't stop

Cause The Roots got the body rock shit

with the twist for your spine, bring it back, UHH!

Fat is my flow that's fluidic

The critics ain't with it, then their domes is beneath

We be the Funk, Four mind as one umm, Crumbs umm

he told us peace, it was against his beliefs

We couldn't live with him cool, with that out we gon' sprout

the record of The Roots to show my attitude is out

I'm on some crazy linear shit, takin a hit during my set

to let, these niggaz know what I'm about

I'm all about the funk, that's relaxed for your state of mind

Snaps is cool, if layin back is the ever

The unity of Bootsee's grin, growin, cause the juice began

as just deuce, groovy flaves that taste, blam together

I likes that, so doin Bobby Mick, ain't ridic', to this

In fact, that's the pen, hey yo direct

from The Tunnels Never Never via satellite

Here comes The Roots, now dig the shits I said



To all my peoples, cause I'm out deah

Just like the group The Rhythmic Tricks because you're out deah

And the group The Soul Plants yeah you're out deah

Just like I said, Remedy is crazy out deah

To ? and Tin-Tin, I think you're out deah

And to my son whose name is Crumbs you know you're out deah

I'm Black Thought to the beat and yo I'm out deah

And yo my group is called The Roots because we're out deah

to get up out



Uhh, abstract organic artistry

Thought is he, that I be

Gravity does not hold me down

As I rise from the ground into sound

Melting browns drip like wax

Building blocks, nappy cat

Blazes acts, filling facts

Mental sax, sweet mental sax

Sweet mental horn, taking the physical form

of a storm of abnorm-ality, re-ality's

lo-cality, vo-cality, low calorie NOT

I got the fat shit y'all

I got the fat shit y'all

I got the fat shit y'all

I got the fat, shit, y'all..