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[Intro]: [Mos Def 'Got':] "It's nineteen ninety now and there's certain individuals Swear they rollin' hard and get robbed on principle" October 26 [Talking: Celph Titled] It's nineteen ninety NOW. Now motherfuckers! [Verse 1: over Buckwild's beat for The Artifacts 'C'mon With The Get Down (Remix) '] So here I am (yeah) In the spot you probably wish you was It's a few haters, but damn if I ain't gettin' love You see my fan base (yep) You see them quotin' bars You see them bringin' up my name sayin', "He goin' hard" He took some time to make an album Now he's back in effect and motherfuckers wanna out him A lot of rappers got my face on they dart board But they don't start war cause I'm the hardest of the hardcore Tinman don't need foil (no) Metallic, exo-skeleton when heat boils Leave you in the sun till your meat spoils The beat boils Buckwild bakes the heat rocks SongtexteWhile you soft though, I'm pullin' back the crossbow (And y'all know) The game's saturated and crowded But you don't hear us bitchin', instead we did somethin' about it Made an album with the same ingredients as many classics known The golden era rap fans who love echoing saxophones [Verse 2: over Buckwild's beat for Bushwackas's 'Caught Up In The Game'] A concept first of it's kind Imagine if we combine (humm) Me, with the murderous rhymes and tracks from a earlier time (oh yeah) In the climate of rap where heads are lost But over here we stay focused and make exactly what we want (yes) Buck ain't just Diggin' The Crates (nah) He dug straight into the shoe boxes of floppy discs And found some jewels so I can rock the shit Shout out to James D.L. For havin' a vision of a magical wizard castin' angry spells Aimin' these shells At the state of rap music Tryin' to change the people and tryin' to change they view of it (true) The faggot art nerds will say we're not progressive But they don't realize this album is a highly focused weapon (nah) Cause we'll get the props and my rep will grow bigger My name everywhere will make these hoes bitter (oh) And any and all attempts to stop my movement I swear to God you'll have brain damage from head contusions [Verse 3: over Buckwild's beat for Little Indian 'One Little Indian (Remix)] So my challenge To jealous rappers and wanna-bes Make a record better than Ninety Now then you can talk to me And you can talk to Buck but he ain't workin' with you Cause he made an album with me statin' facts that mostly dissed you (oh) When flippin' the flim flam, call yourself a big fan But never spend a dime on the music (you'se a bitch man) So if I gotta sell crack to get rich Well, I'm cookin' up the fish scale and Rocket like it's Ismail (uhh) Either that or get my stage so mad amped up Bustin' black hammers with choreographed dancers (boaw) I am the answer to every wack rappers demo song Cause I am the fresh maker like the fuckin' Mentos song (ahhh) October 26th a renaissance begins to work Doin' shit so big I take one step and fall off of the Earth (whoa) We on a motherfuckin' murder spree Give me constructive criticism and I'll give you reconstructive surgery (yeah) [Talking: Celph Titled] Yo, Buck, we gotta give 'em one more man. Throw your L's up for this one. Rest in peace Big L, yeah. [Verse 4: over Buckwild's beat for Big L 'Put It On'] Yo, listen, it don't take fear to fear us You fuckin' with an evil spirit that don't appear in mirrors You wouldn't want to be a fly on the wall, I'm grabbin' a swatter Swing it harder than the kick back to a Magnum Revolver Yes I'm just awful (uhhh) A God not a phony Minaj with your wife and I bought your daughter a pony (ahhh) Officers know me as, "That's that motherfuckin' guy" Shoot a pec or a thigh, don't mean shit if you a muscle guy My guns are more than a friend On time at your door with a nine and a.45 at a quarter till ten I seal Navy Seals, seen a whole army's intestines And choked enemy soldiers till they had Barney's complexion (oh no) One harmless suggestion; Is get your speech right My scrap napkin verses smoke what you took a week to write (yeah) You like butt cheeks tight, it ain't hard to tell You been through more manholes than Donatello and Raphael Faggot Aus Songtexte Mania