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Correct Proceed Iii Lyrics
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Artists: R
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The Roots
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Correct Proceed Iii
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Lyrics:
Rock on, to the break of dawn Freak on to the early morn Khadafi and Sue-kwon, you got it goin on To my man Big Shawn, you got it goin on, now, yo You got The Roots in the house We also got Bahamadia in the house, representin lovely With you ears now proceed It's flavor you wouldn't believe as we proceed Chorus: I shall... Proceed... And continue... To rock the mic (2X) Verse One: Malik B Let's, kill all the small talk, and just elaborate The Roots collaborate I see myself as rather great How the words generate, whole crews disintergrate When I pentrate As if in the course flow with intensive force You best to go and check your source about my textual course Simplicity, it sounds complex, you might miss it But after you critique it you can kiss it I'm assissting fire force that leaves statistics When identify niggaz simplify you'll feel no sympathi My lyrics send you on a permanent excursion I never would decide when your lifespan was submergin My style is urban not surburban when I'm splurgin Gosh these mc's I wash more than detergent I can split the Red Sea but deadly Take heed, illadelph style as I proceed Chorus Verse Two: Bahamadia Bahamadia hits the melodies mellowly Brand new, funk doobie, choosy with the tactics When I gets Raw, like Dice, nice With the flavor, Do You Want More?!!!??! Of the Organix, pure Eargasmatic, from Distortion to Statics Automatic, systematic I'm nasty at it So hand me the five micraphones like they did Illmatic One time for the mind Rhyme be coming from an illadelph state of mind The real is not whole or half time All the time, and I shall proceed I'm movin on baby, I shall proceed To remain, on point like an infrared beam Succeed, in chasing out the ultraviolet dreams No Mas like Shorty, 'cause it's all about me Chorus Verse Three: Black Thought Black and handsome, holdin mc's for ransome Thoughts command some, is this, a phantom? Crews I mangle, y'all know my anthem ain't the Star Spangled I hit you from the most bizarre angle, rectangular Visions of papes my mind conceive Motivatin me to acheive as I must proceed When I ride the train, traumatized to maintain But laid back, the tracks can relax the brain I got to deal with everything on this intelligent plain Servin as a killer To the pain I live a High Life like Miller Me and the mic's mechanized Respect recognize with mind beyond wise Limitless when I bless the mic with speak Dialect never weak, y'all niggaz know Tarik From seven-fifth Snider Ave. Got the flavor you need For the ingredients indeed so to the lead I shall proceed Chorus *fades*
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