[Intro: Maseo]
\nNative Tongue Brothers
\nStand clear to be plugged up into lines 1 through 6
\nSo you can flaunt that legendary style of speak
\n
\n[Verse 1: Black Thought]
\nYo, Black for real, he reps the city of Phil
\nPark the wheel ("What up, Black?"), fuck's the deal?
\nStart the drill, the audience keeps still
\nThought could spill, he paints a portrait ill
\nSo everything's flames, Black's the name
\nRaised on the Rakims, Kool G. Raps, and Kanes
\nA nigga used to catch the train with gats to aim
\nNow I make 'em catch the wave that Black became
\nLook, baller faction, y'all a fraction
\nAll relaxing, this'll be a call to action
\nA futurе, I been seen it all from back when
\nWe would shoot ya, we'd еither brawl or backspin
\nYup, they asking if I'm up, yeah – well, fuck yeah
\nI've been top tier so long, it's like I'm stuck here
\nWhat fear? Only one I fear is upstairs
\nHad to do for self, I wasn't permitted to touch theirs
\nThey trying to afford my time to record
\nNo stress, I never do it for some kind of reward
\nI require me to aspire to the height of the Lord
\nThen reveal the will of the quill, the might of the sword
\nI'm like Talib Kweli on Tongkat Ali, the gun back
\nTo mutilate the drum track, probably
\nFacts, I'm more Project Pat than Pat Reilly
\nI'm Black like Mach-Hommy and strapped just like Tommy
\n
\n[Verse 2: Posdnous]
\nYo, respectfully, with all disrespect intended
\nYou lazy pen niggas need to be rescinded
\nWannabe lyrical John Gotti, when you just John Pilates
\nBending, stretching truth
\nBut Plug Won will tell you one thing, we're foundational funding
\nWith investments that gave birth to youth
\nIn thinking caps, we run laps
\nBut we ain't passin' off batons (We done that)
\nWe side-by-siding it (While we find you)
\nSaying "Don't call it a comeback!"
\nBut all we see is dicks behind you (As yes men)
\nAnd y'all ain't Todd Smith, the God's gift
\nWith the answers to the questions
\nAnd who am I?
\nI'm from a band who's been abandoned
\n'Cause we keep hearing we're appearing in a class by ourselves
\nWith Tongues (That's Native to sons)
\nWho put the soul in the program of zero and one
\n
\n[Verse 3: Mike G]
\nAyo, I beat up the drums like the sucka stole somethin'
\nI'm humpin' on the bass, like I never had nothin'
\nThe tweeters in my face like, "Take it, it's yours" (It's yours!)
\nIt's hot in this mug, I'm here sweatin' in my drawers
\nI'm Native by design, a brother all the time
\nKeep it Jungle is my M.O., NY state of mind
\nA few cards short of a full deck, I know it
\nI'm cooler than a motha', so I don't hardly show it
\nThe fam is in the building, so I let the dogs loose
\nB. Thought, Mr. Kweli, and my nigga, Posdnuous
\nThe Baby Bam beat sets the tone for the era
\nLean back, whippersnapper, we the squad for the terror
\nThe vibes much better, tougher than leather
\n7-oh to 2G, rolled up together
\nSmokin' on fat a top, sittin' on a mountaintop
\nWatchin' all the party people rock to my Hip-Hop
\n
\n[Verse 4: Talib Kweli]
\nYup, every flow is a flex
\nI'm in my B-Boy stance, every pose is a threat
\nThis for my Native Tongues crew, son, we showin' respect
\nI got my Brothers from the Jungle, and we'll go on a Quest
\nPrepare for the worst, even as we hope for the best
\nShowin' love to the Plugs like a cocá connect
\nOpen your chest like 'Alien', choke you to death
\nTake the crown without ever havin' broken a sweat
\nThe B-L-A-C-K S-T-A-R, slayin' the fake gods
\nStraight from the borough that make stars
\nEverything we spittin' is straight bars
\nWe overcame great odds
\nI'm rockin' with the Bey like the Based God
\nThat's accurate, nigga, do the math like a abacus
\nOr algebra, the lesson's translated from Arabic
\nThe Gambler's Fallacy, the law of the averages
\nThe champion sound vs the fall of the challengers
\n
\n[Verse 5: Afrika]
\nCut-cut-cut your nose off, to spite your face
\nI got punchlines that hit below the waist
\nFight or flight, looks like you're wearin' a cape
\nYou're on the up and up, but it's goin' sideways
\nIf you know that crime pays, here's an application
\nMoney so tight, cuttin' off your circulation
\nNot a waitress, I don't take side orders
\n'Straight Out The Jungle,' 'Done By The Forces'
\nHell or high waters, your socks are showin'
\nFeeding off the crowd, they ain't got me going
\nYou had a moment, put your foot on the brake
\n'Cause I'm not another sucka DJ
\nBars for days, with beer on tap
\nAll these beats with my rhymes attached
\n5 thousand boomin' watts, sound system state of the art
\n
\n[Verse 6: Busta Rhymes]
\nNow tell me who told y'all to let a muhfucka back on the block
\nBus' Rhymes the bully foot, park ship at the dock
\nI kill 'em 'til they all decay and eventually rot
\nDo not enter, store shut – bitch, I close every shop
\nEvery time a nigga spit, I microphone 'em dumb
\nAlien bars, they still wonder where the drones is comin' from
\nTuxedo on, when I pull up rockin' a cummerbund
\nNiggas pull up actin' all weird – now where you comin' from?
\nNigga, sip whatever you want, I'm Wray and Nephew rum
\nImpossible to count niggas' pocket – what is you niggas, dumb?
\nI group up niggas in ten, attackin' all of 'em
\nAnd murk a couple niggas in groups, now what's the total sum?
\nMy first album 'The Coming' and see I only come
\nI was inspired by Trill Burger, the homie Bun
\nYou talk too much, lil' nigga, now you's a total bum
\nThe first to franchise rapper fast food as the only one
\n
\n[Outro: J. Rawls]
\nYes indeed
\nMaseo
\nBlack Thought
\nPos Plug Won
\nMike G
\nAfrika
\nBusta Rhyme
\nTalib Kweli
\nJ. Rawls
\n'The Confidence of Knowing'\n\n
