| (feat. Goapele) | |
| I taste the bitter | |
| And the sweet | |
| The sweet and the bitter | |
| Number one draft pick | |
| Metaphysic flow spit up | |
| Sip my own licks as strong like pop liquor | |
| Drink from my flask, kick back till it hit ya | |
| Hick up, excused we sipping Jah brew | |
| Got me so high, hardly know what to do | |
| Been waiting y'all, glad you finally came true | |
| Celebration of yaself, family and friends too | |
| Crew, who? Said it's taboo, for me to show my feelings | |
| Don't you know I'm loving you? | |
| Capiche, released stress at the doormat | |
| Fresh with the raw rap collapse in your format | |
| Backspin again, Jah 'll wade your waistline [???] | |
| Why hate and waste time, bounce with the bass line | |
| Follow, to sunsets and tomorrow, why rappers don't never | |
| Understand their role models, sick with the bottle | |
| Let it get hollow, medic, get sweaty by the spit (of )my motto | |
| Holler back, I've died cold and you got the 'nac | |
| I'm asking all of my people, where ya loving at? | |
| [Chorus: Goapele] | |
| So don't fight the feeling | |
| When we got it right here | |
| We ain't going nowhere | |
| Open your mind | |
| When we got it right here | |
| We ain't going nowhere | |
| I shot the tribe: death, Judah | |
| Twelve when I delve | |
| Deep into your mind | |
| Praise Jah know yaself | |
| Wealth is at state in | |
| A mental debate | |
| It's all in the fate | |
| Plant seeds then you wait | |
| Be patient, backwards ??? is found | |
| When the ancient are the living , stay down | |
| Kings sport ya crown, queens sport ya crown | |
| Jah brings light, now the cipher goes round | |
| We build, chill, party, act ill | |
| Then we back to the lab for some more battle drills | |
| Skills that's for real, fellness is kill, houseless is lost | |
| In the blizzards of their mills, still I arise | |
| My a ancestors let my soul catch fire | |
| And serve as a beacon, for lost soulseeking | |
| A candle per say like in a dark day | |
| We reaching sky high, help me get by | |
| Sometimes I need a boost, so I touch the lye | |
| Don't fight the feeling, when I write | |
| Revealing I'm a light the mic, with hype | |
| Might you fiending for | |
| [Chorus] | |
| Cold Cold copper | |
| Skinny, rap 's in it proper | |
| Drop funk like a sock in ya gym locker | |
| Pop collars, I rock impala's | |
| Meet me at the beach, money rain dollars | |
| Rhyme scholars, the green and the MP | |
| I plan to be out like Marcus Garvey | |
| See D-awn, trip on ya sizzle, cocaine and pistols | |
| Boy that's a issue or two, you can 't see thru the lies | |
| Control the mind, lord knows I'm trying | |
| Resign, flip manuscripts It's amp live with the beat | |
| And boom tick | |
| [Chorus] |
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