The Roots

The Roots - Web 20/20 songtekst

Je score:

(feat. Peedi Peedi, Truck North)




[Truck North]

Yo, Jam boy magic, Mr. Fantastic

Masterful mind, the list that I've crafted

Fresh new trick to flip, I'm Dick Dastard

Half smooth criminal and half straight bastard

No mask when your flag get captured

First class, take you to the rap hereafter

Gone in a flash and yet, he gets faster

Sick when he hits the Mike like Mixmaster

This the Battle of Troy with no Pastor

Slicker than a can of oil with no castor

Chill in the front of the flight, outclass them

Bring your favorite rapper to fight, I'll trash him

Then I'll leave in a timely fashion

Uh, emcees get the tiny rations

Your girl hold me close as a tiny dancer

You got a death wish? Well it's finally answered, prick



[Black Thought]

Yo, Jam boy magic, Mr. Sarcastic

Rap catalogue consists of all classics

Blackness, tell your bitch to fall backwards

Fuck a hood pass, my shit's for all-access

Killing tracks like this, we call practice

Any bullshit y'all twist, we call backwards

Jam boy sharp as a tack, we all cactus

Waiting on a big payback with no taxes

So if you follow the game, you might catch this

Act like an activist; you know, active

Nigga like me just has to spit acid

Sucker like you just has to get blasted

Ashes to ashes, Frasier to Cassius

No homo, y'all some pains in the asses

Get turned to toast like raising your glasses

When I'm on stage, girls swing from the rafters

Often nasty like Monster Mashing

Y'all know the voice is tight, hoarse and raspy

Can't place the face, kind of hard to catch me

Kings that pull strings like Dorothy Ashby

Jawns keep telling me I'm great like Gatsby

Caught like a felony, you can't slide past me

I'm low-key, kind of anti-flashy

Then I'm OG up in a black tie classy

Sun Tzu to Sun Rai, Gargemel, Mumm-Ra

Son of a shooter letting slugs from a gun fly

Should call a Mumbai with the bumbaclot

It's Black Thought, my sound's hard to come by

Last spotted on a yacht getting dumb high

Banging yacht rock with my squad from 215

Straight calling niggas out like the umpire

Any chump try'na front, (word 'em up)



[Peedi Peedi]

Jam boy magic, Mr. Get-Busy, you get busy too?

Then get with me too, we'll get busy, dig me?

Smooth Remy, tool skinny but hold plenty

.22 long contact, new Bentley

No miles yet, curve backs and cruise and he

Bring it back when you through with it, roger that

Grip tenny, French mammies in Vic' panties

Lips candy, dick hard as a fifth of brandy

Hop in it for five minutes, then I'm finished

'Cause pussy is pleasure, but I'm attending my business

Retractable roof, magical coupe disappearing

And reappearing, German engineering this McLaren

Hot jacuzzis, watching movies, glock and uzis

Shots of Louis, busting cuties popping jeweries

Ooh ooh, Ultramag' MC in a M3

Whole body tatted straight up out a MP
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Taal: Engels

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