Quills The Roots

[Hook]
Don't stop (uh don't stop yo)
Tonight (cheeba cheeba yo, soul shock yo)
(Give it everything you got yo)
(Once again it's time, it's time)
It's time to ride, ride

[Verse 1: Black Thought]
Yo, piss in the staircase, blood on the pavement
I fill the quills with it, let it spill on the pages
Compose another anthem for the killers and manglers
Villains in wranglers, fifth still in the chamber
Shit, I'm scientific but my reflex's gangsta
Pull outrageous arms from the floor of the basement
To bust 'nuff talons if my people's in danger
I'm Larry Davis, duckin' helicopter, hoverin' government agents
We muscle the language
What 'Riq spit will leave your shit in utter amazement
I'm hot brolic, call it contagious
The shit the Roots started got these other artists going through changes
My vision is the strangest, the rhythm is anguish
Y'all niggas on the titty in your formative stages
It's something in the iris and the way I spit
That tell these other crab rappers I ain't fo' no shit
Black traumatic, so there you have it
My battin' average, a vault full of graphic assault, it's all classic
Thought, put ass-backwards rappers in a small package
Experience is all that is, I'm well established
Me and the mic in holy matrimony like a marriage
The technique and your reach, if only you could have it
For me it's automatic, it's na-tu-ral, I'm mad thorough
Poet for hire, pack metal
You feel me?