Talib Kweli
"Jackin 4 Beats"

(Text break where the beat changes)
-Talib Kweli-
We got the Eternalists Talib Kweli on
the microphone
DJ Cipha Sounds on the turntables
This is some real hip-hop shit right
here
Here I am, come on, R-A-W
Always down to keep the shit up like
a ?bubble goose?
Brother who, bring trouble to the
industry
With colorful metaphors and similes
I'm sunnin you, what you wanna do
Get rid of me, Cuz I take you back to
history
Like when Niggas hung from a Noose
Yo I'm sucker-proof, plus I never do
what others do
Thugs running loose, kickin nursery
rhymes like Mother Goose
Which one of you(s) want it first
Yo I'm running through your front line
While you still tannin in my sunshine
I got pistol-whip, smack, kick and
punchlines
Represent your block, muscle-shot
one time

I got rhymes like the Bronx got ?
Bohequa?
Soundbombing in your speakers
Rock for the mama citas
Hate to see the party looking like the
Promise-keepers
Niggas sword-fighting and shit and
wanna cock the heaters
We get retarded like we on the short
school bus
Let the legacies of past emcees live
through us
Big Pun, Big L, Big and Pac just to
name a few
I'm sure there's niggas in your crew
too
Shout they name out right here true
But then we always bang out
Slang Ton,Freaky Tye, I never got a
chance to hang out with these niggas
But I feel 'em in the spirit, they still
here
So my death, I'm a never fear it

Even though I can't stop it
Even though I can't stop it
Even though I can't stop it
Brooklyn where y'all at
See I'm from Flatbush
Where cats rush dancehalls and
blacks bust
Shots in the air for the phat cuts and
black dust
Burned on the street, I-TAL is how we
eat
And we ride dollar vans smoke tree
from ?fantaleaf?
Whether crown height, the park
slope, the nineties
The fourth green, the Bedstuy
I used to cut Tec when I was
fourteen to get high at ??? party
Leavin no evidence for ma dukes
?Ilashkee? kid from off the President
Niggas settling in the residence
That make the ghetto mentality have
relevance
Pack metal shit but never for the hell
of it
Searching for heaven until we find
the truth
The kind I never got from no
reverend
And the truth is the Cipha Sounds get
nuff props
These other DJ cats is sweet like
gum drops
Some got the fly shit that keep the
slums hot
Catch a fire like Bob Marley this is just
one drop
In a bucket of treats, whether the
club or the streets
From cats with the bucket of seeds
To the cats that got nothing to eat
We up in this piece
Fuck the Police and tuck in the heat
Niggas bucking at beast
Really fighting for love and peace
But don't know where to aim at
Mental slaves can't see where the
chains at
Ignorance is pop without no
entertainer
The nations economy is a situation
comedy
Corporations are making money while
The people are facing poverty
I rep for the spiritual rich, lyrically rich
Y'all niggas stand for nothing and fall
for anything
Cuz you really be bitch
You feeling me kid, than turn it up a
bit
You think you hot I'll shut your heat
down like New York Knicks
Word is Bond

Yo, I'd like to take this opportunity
right now to big up my man hi-tek
Kweli and hi-tek, reflection eternal for
real
But I got one more
'Bout to let this rhyme out on
probation
You like a fresh fish thrown to
population
Don't give a fuck if I get rocked on
your station
I got many ways to spread information
From the Black Star tour I rock
nations
My moms runs the whole book store
operation
Even underground niggas sell they
soul to satan
And I've met commercial niggas who
be hating
So I don't fall for the separation
These people are gonna grow up, I
got patience
When you're ready to be free, I'll be
waiting
Then every hand can go up in
celebration
Get 'em up, what?!
Get 'em up, what?!
Get 'em up, what?!
Get 'em up, what?!
Yeah