[Talib Kweli]
 We your rhyme sayers  we lead you like a beacon
 of light  out of the chaos  cuttin down overzealous
 players who stare  we're the winners of the game
 Walk in we'l prepared  climbin the stairways
 to heaven while you scared of the people livin under
  ground heard the sound of the clap  made you wonder
 If it was a gun  the crowd  or some thunder
 All of that was out my window when I was younger
 Now I'm much older, lyrical clap MC's
 If you don't know by now, let me aquaint you with my steez
 (C'mon) I don't get on stage and waste your time
 Niggaz got a lot to say but they just can't rhyme
 They just babies, I snatch em out they incubators
 Attach them to respirators, they breathin hard like Darth Vader
 Hard as candy and suck like Now or Laters
 After a while your style's tasteless and it GOT NO FLAVOR

 [Bahamadia]
 Projects my eyesights to the heavens like dead or wise sages
 Release what I hold save it through my book of rhyme pages
 Scripts be ageless, like scrolls from dead sea
 The cadence off and on like the motion of Tai Chi
 Ba-ha-ma-D, wor-dy, to Reflect, Eternally
 Science to a remedy to help and get my people free, but
 little support, got my thesis on freeze
 My only option's doin bootlegs for the Japanese
 Get about eight G's, a heavy buzz overseas
 Sacrifice a pill to mainstream and do what I believe, cause
 down to the chromosomes I'm a purist to this artform
 Enlighten who I touch and let the world catch on

 [Talib Kweli   Bahamadia]
 Yeah, we your rhyme sayers, who lead you like a beacon
 of light, out of the chaos, cuttin down overzealous
 players who stare, we're the winners of the game
 Walk in well prepared, climbin the stairways
 to heaven while you scared of the people livin under-
 -ground heard the sound of the clap, made you wonder
 If it was a gun, the crowd, or some thunder
 All of that was out my window when I was younger

 [Bahamadia]
 Oppose for the nine, how no content sections of the earth
 Walkin vexed, out of my sticks, laced on every verse
 My cells begin to peak at least a hundred thousand hertz
 Meanin my joint's prevalent in Fat Beats and Footworks
 I cater to these markets first, cause they gravitate to me
 And appreciate the vision of what I do musically

 [Talib Kweli]
 Mmm, mmmm, mmmm, mmm!!
 I walked in and they stared, see how they screwin me
 Break you down, til you ain't the man you used to be
 Domination of my jurisdiction, people's addiction to lies
 It blurs the lines between the fact and fiction
 Now we back omission, I fix your face for you, keep yappin
 You start to hate the man in the mirror like Michael Jackson

 [Bahamadia]
 Majors they try to hold me captive but mine are figure factions
 But the foundation of hip-hop hold my braincells for ransom
 I chance none, fuck them spots on charts and number one
 If it's meant, then I'll accept it gracious when the time comes
 This grassrooted curriculum, got me sprung like twisted ankles
 Experience is missable, so I approach it from all angles and
 inject some substance deep inside of rap's core
 Take an MC and back to where it was before

 [Talib Kweli]
 Call us Liberty like the Bell of Philadelphia scenery
 Me and Bahama-D, style free like Mumia need to be
 Seein me, feelin me, we right here on the level
 Turnin hardrocks to pebbles, exposin the devil
 Lyrical olympian like John Carlos winnin gold medal
 Take that bass out yyour voice you talk to me in treble
 I'm _Serious_ as Steady B so you know I ain't playin
 I'm stimulatin, makin crowds MOVE like organizations in Philly
 Keep it positive, my prerogative is exercise
 See through the chaos with my third eye
 Word I exhibit the exquitiness, since a child I was vivid
 Throw your hands in the air if you with it, dig it

 [Talib Kweli   Bahamadia]
 Yeah, we your rhyme sayers, who lead you like a beacon
 of light, out of the chaos, cuttin down overzealous
 players who stare, we're the winners of the game
 Walk in well prepared, climbin the stairways
 to heaven while you scared of the people livin under-
 -ground heard the sound of the clap, made you wonder
 If it was a gun, the crowd, or some thunder
 All of that was out my window when I was younger

 [Talib Kweli]
 Seven-eighteen, to five-one-three
 We meet at two-one-five
 Reflection Eternal, Bahamadia, yes yes

 [Xzibit]
 Yo listen the fuck up y'all
 It's Mr. X to the Z Xzibit
 Broadcastin with the home grown
 That's right, they straight out of my backyard
 The Beat Junkies, on Rawkus Records understand me?
 It's Soundbombing 2