Artist: The Roots Album: N/A (0000) Title: @15
Lyrics @15The name of the brother to blame It's quite plain, it's not the rain But a brother who don't claim or aim To be a preacher or ordained I have Black Thoughts, therefore my name's the same
Don't question my ability, in a studio facility As I utilize my God-given utility On time, I get behind and push along a rhyme of mine Which I design, with what? The mind
Leave MC's blind with amnesia Chop 'em into salad and my name ain't Caesar Think twice before you approach Get benched by the coach like exit post
I wrote murder, so you can say it's Murder He Wrote You think I'm Hell sent, so you repent to the Pope Don't walk when the sign says not to And don't talk when Black Thought's about to
When I say, ?Maestro? and bro starts to play it If you got a rhyme in your mind, then don't say it Save it for the weaker, pack your portable speaker And utilize the treads on your sneaker
Take your sorry crew back an' forget about rappin' Forget you ever saw me and forget this ever happened 'Cause you might have nightmares of MCs bein' slain And I'll be to blame when you go insane |