Talib Kweli

Talib Kweli - Say Something lyrics

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The year is 1975 (yeah, hahaha!)

Brooklyn, New York City (stand up)

A child destined for greatness is born (we goin' in)

Let's go!



Get your hands in the air (get em up!)

Put your hands in the air (put em up!)

Get your hands in the air (get em up!)

Put your hands in the air (put em up!)





Talk shit now (now...now...now...) What? What?

Talk shit now (now...now...now...) What?

Talk shit now (now...now...now...) What? 

Talk shit now (now...now...now...) What?

Talk shit now (now...now...now...)



Say something, say something (what was that?)

Say something (I dare you), say something 





The lord chief rocker, I'm colder than meatlockers

My people keep throwin' it up like cheap vodka

I smack internet emcees and beat bloggers

You can see my black thought like 'Riq Trotter

It's deep – go ahead and sleep

They know in the street Kwe' gon flow on the beat proper

Composin' complete operas

Longer than a cigar thats godfather, 

Tap into heart chakras im harder than gobstoppers

People comin' for the throne not knowin' the seat hotter

Than fish grease, criminal names on police blotters

You convinced me, I hit targets like top shottas

Out in the mideast like Muslims takin' Shahada

I'm sayin' makin' a profit a product of Reaganomics

Awake and I'm stayin' conscious to radio playin' garbage, yeah

Blacksmith Music, if you don't pay homage, 

I'ma show you how we break an artist

That's a threat, I'm not makin' a promise

Speak to the people like Barak Obama

They worship like a black Madonna, c'mon

Niggas talk shit, but they ain't got skills

I'm the type of nigga to put lead in your grill

Number two pencil is sharper to bruise mentals, and

Beatin' in my chest is the heart of a true gentleman

Still spit right in your face

Fuck a Top 8, back up, gimme my space, you're not safe



Yeah, they say I'm back, but I ain't go nowhere though

Been here the whole time

Where you been? You back

Matter fact, apologize





Talk shit now (now...now...now...) What? What?

Talk shit now (now...now...now...) What?

Talk shit now (now...now...now...) What?

Talk shit now (now...now...now...) What? 

Talk shit now (now...now...now...) C'mon



Say something (g'head), say something (uh huh)

Say something (what?) (who is it?) say something (Jean Grae!)





Yeah, open your mouth, say something, I fuckin' dare you

Chokin' you out till you can't suck any air through

Fuck with your man too, thinkin' I can't do what I plan to

Vet vandal, niggas are brand new

Ain't knew I was bad news? Look at the tattoos

Get ran through like you was fingers through Sassoon

Horror chick in the bathroom, off the backstage room

Shit you couldn't imagine, nigga I'll harass you

I'll Ras Kass you, soul on ice and body cast dude

Past due, Jean and Kwe the last two action heroes

Actually had the capacity to be the ones in a class of zeroes

Hip hop's not dead, it was on vacation

We back, we bask in the confrontation

You can ask me, have any conversation

You talk shit, Blacksmith, Jean, I'm waitin', nigga





Talk shit now (now...now...now...) What? What?

Talk shit now (now...now...now...) What?

Talk shit now (now...now...now...) What?

Talk shit now (now...now...now...) What? 

Talk shit now (now...now...now...)



Say something (g'head), say something (what was that?)

Say something (I dare you), say something 





We not fallin' for your trick 'cause your image is like a gimmick

Forget it, every rhyme is bitten, you like a mimic

I'm talkin' to the lord and I'm askin' him for forgiveness

Just for kickin' niggas out the club like Michael Richards

Yeah, I admit, I'm guilty, the way I spit is filthy

I keep it gritty, so they get it, they feel me, the flow

Is known for touchin' the soul of street hustlers

I speak in the language - you know I keep customers

The writing therapeutic, it's due to the pain and sufferin'

While these dudes get it confused and abuse the creative substance

I'm givin' you a contact high, my name buzzin

And I came in the game with nothin', stop frontin' nigga, talk shit now!





The year of the Blacksmith is not defined by any calendar

Just thought I'd remind all you challengers

Get the name right, Talib Kweli, BKMC, stand up!



Get your hands in the air (get em up!)

Put your hands in the air (put em up!)

Get your hands in the air (get em up!)

Put your hands in the air (put em up!)









Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

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Language: English

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