Native Sons (Part 2)

[Intro: Maseo] Native Tongue Brothers Stand clear to be plugged up into lines one through six So you can flaunt that legendary style of speak [Verse 1: Black Thought] Yo, Black for real, he reps the city of Phil Park the wheel ("What up, Black?"), fuck's the deal? Start the drill, the audience keeps still Thought could spill, he paints a portrait ill So everything's flames, Black's the name Raised on the Rakims, Kool G. Raps, and Kanes A nigga used to catch the train with gats to aim Now I make 'em catch the wave that Black became Look, baller faction, y'all a fraction All relaxing, this'll bе a call to action A future, I been seen it all from back when We would shoot you, wе'd either brawl or backspin Yup, they asking if I'm up, yeah? Well, fuck yeah I've been top tier so long, it's like I'm stuck here What fear? Only one I fear is upstairs Had to do for self, I wasn't permitted to touch theirs They tryna afford my time to record No stress, I never do it for some kind of reward I require me to aspire to the height of the Lord Then reveal the will of the quill, the might of the sword I'm like Talib Kweli on Tongkat Ali The gun back to mutilate the drum track, probably Facts, I'm more Project Pat than Pat Reilly I'm Black like Mach-Hommy and strapped just like Tommy [Verse 2: Posdnous] Yo, respectfully, with all disrespect intended You lazy pen niggas need to be rescinded Wannabe lyrical John Gotti when you just John Pilates Bending, stretching truth, but Plug Won will tell you one thing We're foundational funding With investments that gave birth to youth in thinking caps We run laps, but we ain't passin' off batons We done that, we side-by-siding it while we find you Saying, "Don't call it a comeback," but all we see is dicks behind you As yes men and y'all ain't Todd Smith, the God's gift with the answers to the questions And who am I? I'm from a band who's been abandoned 'Cause we keep hearing we're appearing in a class by ourselves with tongues That's native to sons who put the soul in the program of zero and one [Verse 3: Mike G] Ayo, I beat up the drums like the sucker stole somethin' I'm humpin' on the bass like I never had nothin' The tweeters in my face like, "Take it, it's yours" (It's yours) It's hot in this mug, I'm here sweatin' in my drawers I'm native by design, a brother all the time "Keep it jungle," is my MO, NY state of mind A few cards short of a full deck, I know it I'm cooler than a mother, so I don't hardly show it The fam is in the building, so I let the dogs loose B. Thought, Mr. Kweli, and my nigga, Posdnuous The Baby Bam beat sets the tone for the era Lean back, whippersnapper, we the squad for the terror The vibes much better, tougher than leather 7-oh to 2G, rolled up together Smokin' on fat a top, sittin' on a mountaintop Watchin' all the party people rock to my hip-hop [Verse 4: Talib Kweli] Yup, every flow is a flex I'm in my B-Boy stance, every pose is a threat This for my Native Tongues crew, son, we showin' respect I got my brothers from the jungle and we'll go on a quest Prepare for the worst, even as we hope for the best Showin' love to the plugs like a cocá connect Open your chest like "Alien," choke you to death Take the crown without ever having broken a sweat The B-L-A-C-K S-T-A-R, slayin' the fake gods Straight from the borough that make stars Everything we spittin' is straight bars We overcame great odds I'm rockin' with the Bey like the Based God That's accurate, nigga, do the math like an abacus Or algebra, the lesson's translated from Arabic The Gambler's Fallacy, the law of the averages The champion sound vs the fall of the challengers [Verse 5: Afrika] Cut-cut-cut your nose off to spite your face I got punchlines that hit below the waist Fight or flight, looks like you're wearin' a cape You're on the up and up, but it's goin' sideways If you know that crime pays, here's an application Money so tight, cuttin' off your circulation Not a waitress, I don't take side orders 'Straight out the jungle, done by the forces Hell or high waters, your socks are showing Feeding off the crowd, they ain't got me going You had a moment, put your foot on the brake 'Cause I'm not another sucker DJ, bars for days, with beer on tap All these beats with my rhymes attached Five thousand boomin' watts, sound system state of the art [Verse 6: Busta Rhymes] Now tell me who told y'all to let a motherfucker back on the block Busta Rhymes the bully foot, park ship at the dock I kill 'em 'til they all decay and eventually rot Do not enter, store shut, bitch, I close every shop Every time a nigga spit, I microphone 'em dumb Alien bars, they still wonder where the drones is comin' from Tuxedo on, when I pull up rockin' a cummerbund Niggas pull up actin' all weird, now where you comin' from? Nigga, sip whatever you want, I'm Wray and Nephew rum Impossible to count niggas' pocket, what is you niggas, dumb? I group up niggas in ten, attackin' all of 'em And murk a couple niggas in groups, now what's the total sum? My first album, "The Coming," and see I only come I was inspired by Trill Burger, the homie Bun You talk too much, lil' nigga, now you's a total bum The first to franchise rapper fast food as the only one [Outro: J. Rawls] Yes, indeed Maseo Black Thought Pos Plug Won Mike G Afrika Busta Rhyme Talib Kweli J. Rawls The Confidence of Knowing