[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!