The Anti-Circle The Roots

[Verse 1: Black Thought]
Yo, I'm the Anti-Circle!
On the mad train like a Rain that's Purple, I storm
Never comin' twice in one form
The Black'll act a fool and I'm gone
Crumbs, bust it! Pass the popcorn (Yeah)
As I kick flavor, behavior abstract
I get recog-nition, but I represent no religion or sect
So I'm no preacher, but I reach your soul 'cause I'm stronger
The younger son of Cassandra
Like ganja I grow from the root, like water I flow
Could sport either the low or the nappy Afro
I still will have the pick 'cause I choose to evict
Derelicts on the tip, tryin' to diss the mad skit — buster shit!
How many licks do it take to make a fake
Realize that he can't shake, bake or penetrate
This style I demonstrate on a regular
Basis and face that he ain't no competitor?
I said it a second ago
Yo, I'm the Anti-Circle with the mad style
Crushin' any mental that be fragile
You don't wanna see me get like agile
Rippin' up the scene, screamin' like I was a bad child
Black Thought, so hip that I'm square
The rhythm that you hear is from the kids right over there
The Rubber Band and ?uestion just one step away
Yesterday was a day away, attention you should pay today
To The Roots, stickin', boot kickin' with flippa
I lift the party up and y'all get down like a zipper
The mista hippa flippa kid
The one who digs the music and be hurtin' a
Rhythm when I get Anti-Circular