Clones

The RootsThe Roots 

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The Roots

The Roots are an American Grammy Award-winning hip hop/neo soul band formed in 1987 by Tariq "Black Thought" Trotter and Ahmir "Questlove" Thompson in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. They are known for a jazzy, eclectic approach to hip hop which includes live instrumentals.Malik B., Leonard "Hub" Hubbard, and Josh Abrams were added to the band, originally called The Square Roots. more »

Year:

2006

2:35

115 Views

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Yeah, to all the Jim Carrey ass large co-op 
KnowhatI'msayin? Large co-op, what the f*ck? 
To the clones, we bless the domes 
Blow the vial, you know my style, large co-op 
Freestyle all the way son 
Dice 

First of all let's talk about these ill capers 
And fly ass frontin' bitches that now caught vapors 
Niggaz run up on you with guns, snatchin' papers 
Outlined body chalk, is how they would scrape ya 
From off the pavement, I hate gettin' locked up 
Cause that upstate bus reminds me of the slave ships 
But then the bible never saved shit 
I guess that's why every juvenile is in the same predicament 
You want to slang crack, or hold tecs, and do the concept 
You can't make loot, when your moms is smokin' up the product 
I try to tell ya, don't let these streets fuckin' fail ya 
The way niggaz be gettin' clapped shit'll fuckin' scare ya 
But in the dark, we ran wild, so we killin' 'em 
Niggaz scared, can't stand still, like fuckin' helium 
Fake niggaz, they don't go platinum they go aluminum 
Got em cloned the f*ck up son, that's why we losin em 
I'm lookin' at this niggaz longevity 
To make a big play, but then it might be a mistake 
Cause if I get sent to D.C., I'm sendin' Dice to DE 
With three p's, so when I get out, he can see me 
For real, 'cause the streets is filled with snakes and rats 
The snake will be that bitch and that rat will be that cool cat 
With swollen pockets we gonna take you back home 
Master Allah Rule Savior, never clone  

Yo, I use the mic to slap you in the face and erase your taste 
Disgrace your date put your title to waste 
Dominant lyrical grace, from a place called wild 
Illadelph Isle Pensy, that's the residency 
Consist in currency, my pockets never empty 
Some cats, believe they MC but we know they all fraud 
Do a show in Philly niggaz wouldn't applaud 
Nobody know your record nor who you openin' for 
Can tell your squad's artificial while approachin' the door 
So you should prepare, for lyrical terror that's pure 
Step up to the reservoir, of the soul proprietor style 
Messiah or, the higher law down with Dice Raw 
The matador, shorty connoisseur 
Stompin' whatever you build to the floor 
Similar to that of a dinosaur 
I told you I'm the rap predator 
You insist to imitate, what for? 
Superstar niggaz is ten percent real, ninety percent invented 
For a fuckin' record deal 
Comin' with somethin' veterans can't feel 
I hit you like a steel anvil 
Because you grafted off the next man's skill 
But still I remain mellow, seein' the theatrics of Othello 
Run over tactics of the 
See-L-O/N-E-S fess 
The phoniest cats is felonious (word) 

Dice Raw the juvenile lyricist corner store terrorist 
Block trooper, connoisseur of fine cannabis 
Focus never weak, blow up the spot like plastique 
Leave a nigga shook, to the point, he won't speak 
Never half-assed, always live and direct 
On bitches try to punk smell the panty and raw sex 
Mad lights I had to black out, when fake niggaz act out 
Or step out of place, they get slapped in they face 
All y'all niggaz is fake, tryin' to emulate my style 
What grown man? In this game, to me you're a child 
I trained wack MC's, in camps like ex-marines 
Why the f*ck you think you went home and had bad dreams 
Of horrifying things, that your ass never seen before? 
You traveled to the realm of Dice Raw 
Where clones get they dome blown with chrome microphones 
It's not your fault black, just the fact you wasn't shown 
You'll come through this like a smurf 
I got you rollin' stop off the earth 
Represent while I been like this since birth 
And I won't be the last but I definitely was the first 
Dice Raw big car Logan's Isle sol-dier 	 

Don't come across that line or pay a cost 
Knuckle games and hammer cocked ain't nothing sweet or soft 
Win lose or draw to the jaw take one 
Deranger lyrical launcher, or station 
No conversation is needed, my task completed 
Read a nigga up and down in the cut where I'm seated 
Snatch you from your cloud of cannabis you ignoramuses 
You laid on your lap, when I attack your glamorous 
Lifestyle, I banged your head up with the white fowl 
My character a product of this two-one-fifth trife style 
I breeze through areas niggaz would fear to walk in 
Balance the talkin', that galactic style as of a falcon 
Your Star Trek ass will wrinkle 
Spill these words and form into a sprinkle 
Cap you're brought up and the name of twinkle 
My insight will crack the windpipe of y'all niggaz 
Whether small, middle-sized, or tall niggaz 
Just tie your name next when I start to X 
Givin out flex pains of death so f*ck a raincheck 
The insane vet, whether you ganked the brain wet 
You proceed to lame check, the opposite of same sex 
I annihilate your type if you violate 
Makin' your blood rush, you post never a higher rate

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