The taste of nothing, this does something Moms that knows that, says I'm fronting Call me Smiley, 'cause I'm wiley Living life like the life of Riley Smoking blunts with a boy named Bud We cough up your lungs, cough up your cud Put out fires, with a 40, ounce of water You know you ought of Dance to this, your girl you kiss I like fried foods, especially fish Afrocentric, I'm electric Socialistic and eccentric Body's healthy, mind is wealthy Thoughts, they flow, that will prepare me To be a Native, get creative Original and designative Listen to the line that's playing Listen hard to what Q's saying Politicians are magicians Make your vote, they hope your wishing Ambiguous words, senseless verbs They all amount to crap that's heard Violent hip hop, money flip flops Promoters won't book, but it still rocks I'm a Zulu, yes, a true blue Red Alert is with the poo-poo Ozone layer, loses flavor Here's the edge that you will savor
The economy, politics, police, everything Except for the youth But the youth about to come back
Alright, here they come Uh oh, uh oh, uh!
With expressions and I'm guessing 19 years is a youthful lesson Falling skies babe, open eyes babe Can't you see what lays inside babe Making mentions on this tension Rhythmic loving, my profession Hips, they gyrate, scripts I narrate No banana, I ain't a primate Ain't no soul glo, just an Afro The head is bred to let the thoughts grow Quest together, to lands of never Sleet and snow and storms can't sever Tribe is growing, never know when For this time, six necks may show in Dialogues have been accepted Negatives have been rejected That's the music, negro music Is here for all, so you must choose it Phonies fondle, watch it throttle 3-6-5 straight out the bottle Busting caps, finger snaps I prefer the second for ghetto tracks Phife, Jarobi, Ali told me Get the force like Wan Kenobi Force his teaching, beats are screeching Poly plateaus, we aim for reaching Tribalization, freaks the nation A mass of peers in celebration Hopes been real high, since the knee high Days of youth, feeling good and real spry Avid combos, hear those bongos Boom cacker boom, that's how they go We ain't nomads, but we real glad Hip hop slams through the nineties, no fad As a rhythm, have been given Hurry up, become, we breaking out, out
With a rhythmic instinction to be able to travel Beyond existing forces of life Basically, that Tribal And if you want to get the rhythm Then you have to join a Tribe Word, peace