[Intro: Talib Kweli & Hi-Tek]
Yo, we been through this before, right? (Word, word)
So we figured, if we gon' do it, we gotta freak it
You know what I'm sayin? (True, true, true)
'Cause, everythin' gotta go up from here, right? (Yo, no doubt)
So, Hi-Tek, turn it up a notch
[Verse 1: Jane Doe & Talib Kweli]
Hail Mary — matter fact, hail Jane
Niggas take my name in vain, like I was cocaine
My affirmations kill MC's like assassination
Bringin' you pain 'til you wish you had a vaccination
Or vaccine, I shine like Vaseline
Gas players like petroleum, walk over 'em like linoleum
My vocab expand like a rubber band
Walkin' naked through the Motherland
Give the finger to my brotherman
Niggas just don't understand my reasons
I transcend like season, and scar these rappers like Legion (What?)
It's treason, my suspension attract attention
I'm ventin', givin' these chickenheads detention
Did I mention my name, yo? Go by the Jane Doe
Drenched in Polo, chill downtown in Soho
You don't know, this is just half my potential
Check my credentials, come harder than sequential, it's essential
You listen, I drive — you a pedestrian
They bless me on the track 'cause I attack wit' the estrogen
Rhyme against the best of men, Jane burn it up!
When you hear it in the whip, tell your man to turn it up!
[Verse 2: Wordsworth & Punchline]
Yo, gimme – yo!
Yo, we "Fortified Live," supportin' allies
The wack is tryna shorten our lives (Word), it sorta waters my eyes
But here's somethin' to cry and talk about (What up?)
The verse on that cassette you and your cousin fought about
That led to God and Satan's fallin' out (Word)
Encouraged the liquor for those who ain't here that you pourin' out (Uh)
A three-way – your parents, preacher, and spouse called my house
Revive or ruin, my theories of mics (What?)
Sony or Aiwa, black or white, I fit in all stereo-types (Word)
Search for a casket plot – I'll make you a laughin' stock
So shook, I could walk a half a block and feel the aftershocks
Rain of acid drops – seek some help!
Now, don't rewind, get it the first time, shouldn't have to repeat myself
(Not at all) Eternally, verbally, I have numbers succumb to time-outs
In rhyme bouts, you'll dial "9," just to get a line out
Known fact or factors and non-rappers fractured
Results – more cast appearances than a hundred actors
MC's I'm testin', like diseases injected in gerbils
Wordsworth, Kweli, Hi-Tek, Reflection Eternal – what!
[Verse 3: Talib Kweli]
My style highlights like fonts, when I burn heads like a conk
'Cause niggas front
When they chances get slim like Pharoahe Monch
Thinkin' they shits is heavy when they light like illumination
Intellectual masturbation with premature ejaculation
I'm comin' cleaner than vaccinations
My fascination with character assassination
Got these niggas burnin' like sensation
We keep it hot like matches, and on-lock like latches
Wack MC's get they microphones snatched like (Like what?) Lee patches
So you go! To every wack muthafucka that you know (Scram!)
My lyrics, they get up in your jeans like Parasucos
So there's no mystery about the father
Niggas is hot and bothered, like the bitches that they are
Takin' pictures with stars, it got 'em open!
But after they little hopes and dreams get broken
Me and Hi-Tek — we "live long and prosper" like Vulcans
Think I'm jokin'? (Nah...)
We both got sons, we make cream and break dreams
See through the fake schemes
Wipin' your slate clean like a squeegee
We be lightin' shit up like phosphorus
Turnin' flamboyant niggas anonymous, depressin' an optimist
You stoppin' us is preposterous, like an androgynous misogynist
You pickin' the wrong time –
Steppin' to me when I'm in my Prime like Optimus
Transformin' from 'Rookie Of The Year' to veteran
Hip-Hop is big business like Con Edison, or medicine
But, fuck it! They gonna let us in, or else we rush the door
I got too many reasons, save your "why?"s and "what for?"s
[Chorus: Talib Kweli, Mos Def & Hi-Tek]
This is twice in a lifetime, so I'm lettin' you know
(Let 'em know, yo!)
Black Star, Wordsworth, Punchline, and Jane Doe (Yo!)
Lyrical company and we emcee
We got the fortified five, exhibit levels degree
[Verse 4: Punchline]
Check it –
I keep dough in my pocket, while you follow the false profit (Yo)
Get deep like Islamics wrapped in a white garment
I touch topics that try to open up your optics
Vacate in the tropics, you dodgin' bullets in the projects
Cut the nonsense, I'm hotter than a lot of men
Start honorin', got more wifeys than Solomon
Fuck the squad you in! Aiyyo, we be the bidd-omb
Regardless what I spit on, you worship the tracks that I shit on
Once you get on, it's fam you can't trust (What?) (Yes!)
Words and Punch make rappers March like the third month
I build with friends, lyrically spit gems
Call me Diamond, 'cause I'm your girl's best friend
MC's are born losers, alcoholic abusers
I'll go on the radio and start a gay rumor
And then I'll talk about how the crowd tried to boo ya
Label screwed ya, stressed out with brain tumors
My gat claps 50% of the wack
Take it back to real rap, Krylons with the fat cap
Get robbed for your ASCAP, leave you one side
Fortified live, reppin' NY 'til I die (What!)
[Verse 5: Mos Def]
Black body radiation, situation that we workin' with
My verbiage just enlisted by the focused camera surfaces
The purpose is–make 'em go and purchase this, no nervousness
We are hot like black tar, Black Star with the merger, it's
Superlative, you fabricated like the word "absurditive"
I'm rockin' this from here to where the Persians live
From Brooklyn where the merchants live
Next door to the murderers
And bourbon is a elder man's medicinal alternative (Ha!)
My memory is furnished with
Back streets, to back seats, to phat Jeeps (Remember that?)
Legendary athletes who played by the trash heap (Whew!)
My crew wasn't that deep, but beef?! We didn't act sweet
Treadin' on these stompin' grounds, you're bound to catch some black feet
"Fa-La-Lashe," it was between De Kalb and Pulaski
Off the meter like a out-of-borough taxi
They'd run your pockets fastly!
Black and nasty, nappy and crafty (Uh!)
That's why they either sittin' in Clinton or Coxsackie
Mayor Rudolph can screw off!
You're too soft to stop us (Crossdressin'-ass nigga!)
You and your coppers should see some foot doctors
Got your bird chest popped up, but keep your guns cocked up
'Cause all them cats you knocked up
Ain't always gon' be locked up
Givin' you "Hot Stuff" like Donna Summer, another #1'er
Comin' from the underground, this is how it's comin' down
Baby, let me run it down!
Mos Def, Talib Kweli, Jane Doe, Punch, Word... {*ahem*} re–
Excuse me! Just ate another MC
Sometimes, that's just how it be!
Partner, wash it down with green tea and some lime
We like the five on the fist, fortified organized like this!
