Testo I'm On One - Talib Kweli
Testo della canzone I'm On One (Talib Kweli), tratta dall'album Gutter Rainbows
Yo, this is Ed Lover man, yo Talib
Show these niggas what it is man
You're a real rhymer man, you're a real MC man
These old doo doo ass bonehead fucking squarehead
Spongebob head motherfuckers kids
They ain't got no skills son, they can't do shit
Ayo Talib, tell 'em man, come on son
Yeah
No sleep till Brooklyn
Khrysis on the board with the heat y'all
Kweli
Yeah
Let's get 'em
Son, come on son
Yeah, yeah, I'm on one
Son, come on son
I-I-I'm on one
Son, come on son
Yeah that's what you been waiting for
You are now in tune
Yeah, yeah, I'm on one
You are now in tune
Son, come on son
Gutter rainbow
Yeah
This that crack must be what you're using if you challenge me
You're sniffing on that white girl
The Valerie's, the Natalie's, the Mallory's
Got you sweating like you're losing calories
Battle me, you confuse illusion with reality
Back up off me, you had your glory
Man I've never seen a sadder story
Blame yourself, you're mad at me, you're mad at Corey
I left the maze, you still the white mice in the laboratory
Don't test the brain son, I'm quite nice in categories
Metaphors and allegories, speaking at your colleges
Pathologies, I keep my ghetto promises, I promise this
The rhyme'll leave you bloody as first responder's kit
You hear 'em coming with the sirens of titans like Kurt Vonnegut
The appetite for dominance rival that of the Ottoman phenomenon
I'll eat you after dark like this was Ramadan
Ain't no patience for the wack MC
This ain't Worldstar homie, this ain't VladTV
Stop posing for the camera, I'm showing all you amateurs
Life is a bitch this how you handle her, you let the chips
Drop, let 'em fall where they may
It's an everyday struggle like Notorious say
Son
Come on son
Yeah, yeah, I'm on one
Come on son
I-I-I-I
I got the recipe for rest in peace
I never ran but I'm looking so presidential
I still command you to arrest the chief
Rebellion is my specialty
While the mad cows convince you to invest in beef
I play this game without a referee so there ain't no official
So even Too $hort couldn't blow the whistle
Oh yeah I flow a little, you might have heard of me
Producers got restraining orders, I murder beats
State of emergency like that is coke
You hate it but you love it though
We smoke it when we're up in double dutch but I ain't jumping rope
My gutter flow, ice cold like the love below
I bring the hood right into your bungalow
Teach you how to stop, ironically bionically majors
Now you can do us a favor and stop your goonish behavior
You rude as Judas who wasn't it, you the truly, you're haters
Have your neighbor in the back, you'll do anything to be famous
Stop posing for the camera, I'm showing all you amateurs
Life is a bitch this how you handle her, you let the chips
Drop, let 'em fall where they may
It's an everyday struggle like Notorious say
Son
Come on son
Yeah, yeah, I'm on one
Come on son
Yeah, yeah, I'm on one
Now where y'all at man
This is America ain't it
Where can I be free
Ay, you can do what you wanna do man
Yo, what the fuck happened to skills yo
Y'all ain't got no skills man
Yo Kweli man, show these niggas what's going on son
Show these niggas man that that old ABC
Shit that they talk about is bullshit son
Get the fuck out of here with that bullshit
Man, where's Mos Def at anyway son
For real son, come on son
Credits
Writer(s): Christopher Frederick Tyson
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