Talib Kweli - Human Mic Lyrics
(Verse)Exhibit characteristic served to averageMissed for the graduating for stabbing and grabbing a biscuitSick and tragic how attacking is a gift.When its no power go sour,I see him crossing a bridge by the masses,Covered in the ashes of both towers.Made it in New York and the way that we talkMake it to North and thats a gift,Refuse to back, lay to mourn, and then tore it over.Look out for shooters that were popping up at the operaThe popular, adore his pain for the sins of the ol Father.Popular music got em confused and killers that know usKilling the hottest, competition dealing departed.They feeling some sort away cause my flow will fill in the garbageIm making you throw without it, just making the people vomit.When it comes to this rammen Im a legend like too common,Or the Chupacabra, the way I move it together its how I got em.Make them acclaim my cover, you adapt the way you shot it,The Amarretta, youre sweet as a girly drink,Throw it back, coniac, who the best, you know thatYou can have your own opinion, but not your own facts.On track as the most prolific ever, the most consistent,Vicious, New York can rip you, be ripping it like a shreadSome symphony on shit, getting higher than your faucet,Getting better, trouble pearl of your jam like any better.Very fat was self appoint and preserved us a pathArrows that never seen their reflection when theyre walking past warriors.They got bitten and now theyre smitting with the days to blood and tickingThey taking off drugs for the sleeping and keeping it *****ing and make it up.Raise the bar and the waiters up,Others hating, just confused, undergo the way to luck.Eyes out the window to the souls and my shades up,Have it for others, regardless cause I got fake the nuss.For the worthless who dont get paid enoughTake the bus, hands way too rough from the paper cuts.As far as theyre concerned from on the table on the way to loveTake a slump, feel it to raise a child, you got to raise it up.Raise it up, raise it up, take it up, take it up