The Roots - Y'all Know Who

I'm the ultimate, the rhyme imperial
I'm better but some don't believe though
But I'm a proven hot
y'all know the legendary Roots crew

Here we go Ock, watch my material knock
y'all Tonka toys straight out the cereal box
Down low covert ops feel or not
Throw your mitts up we 'bout to thicken the plot

My name is D-you-N-D-S-P, The Mic specialist
Laid back how it come off it seems effortless
I mac Nicholas, like a me St.
Flow excellent, my movement the next testament

Rhinoceros in the raps of far we
y'all weaklings get slapped at the party
I'm the MC that MC's aspire to be
Back to do it to death til ya tired of me

Now who the number one best
The never pop nothin' sound like the rest
C'mon you know I am em
Raw like dark denim, with a soft spot for smart women,

green trees and white linen
The black thought was a monster from the beginnin'
Wreak spit venom, raw core shit I pinnin'
It's my time and it's long overdo

Now who's comin through y'all know who

[Repeat: x 3]
Y'all know the legendary roots crew
Word up Black Th-idought, code name ?
Fake MC's get stuck with pitchforks
From rollerbladin' on thin ice like it's a rink

Picklehead cats is join, they don't think
Ya not sleepin' that a long ass blink money
Ya little chicken thick but her breath stink
Nothin' y'all spittin' is interesting

Y'all not Black Thought, nor the next best thing
Plug bullshit start a kid thuggish
Go ahead get ya thing off son, I just love it
It manifests a style thou shall not covet

And none of y'all rappers want no parts of it
Who the steppin' razor, like Peter Ti-dosh
My nine speak soft my thoughts is Molotov
You cut like that then fuck it we all can toss

And who gonna shine when all y'all take a loss
It's the boar, it's similar tan as Dice Raw
Its big spawn kids cohap the quick draw
We heavyweight blowin' 'em out the picture

For real, for real
Who comin' to get y'all
Mix
Step into the spot the venue is empty

5 minutes later the crowd is in a frenzy
Packed up to the maximum occupancy
Give me the mic I got a Jones like Quincy
Break down the barriers don't try to fence me

Let the ladies in the front get pressed against me
Peepin', brothers on stage ten deep-an'
24 out the 18 straight leapin'
Duck season, Thought bust the heat seakin'

Mission make y'all feel this and keep leakin'
Bang this in the hoods
Like stolen goods, keep reachin'
New soundwave street sweepin'

I walk upon water like Run D 'em
Cash Money maintainin' the cut
It's our time and it's long overdue
Who comin' through y'all know who

[Repeat: x 3]
Y'all know the legendary roots crew
Word up Black Th-idought, code name ?
Fake MC's get stuck with pitchforks
From rollerbladin' on thin ice like it's a rink

Written by:
TARIK L. COLLINS, AHMIR K. THOMPSON, LEONARD N. HUBBARD, SCOTT SPENCER STORCH

Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.

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