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    ...welcome to The Roots, The Roots

    Check it, check it, Black Thought, is in the house
    and uhh, Malik B, is in the house
    We're groovin out, yes in the house
    *discordant talk*
    Just get on the mic with your master plan

    Verse One: Malik B

    I can make you dance, I can make you shout
    The scripts in the scroll turned the whole party out
    Inject my lyrics in a sec with dialect
    Why accept, because it's from the highest eye and depth
    Rap extrordinaire share me never ever
    See through because I be true, Malik's together
    Intox your cells till your brain vein swells
    Niggaz'll claim terror when their never parellel
    Once I have a hunch that there's MC's that front
    I just crunched a whole bunch, in one big munch
    I always stand firm, under any term
    My actions never squirm cuz my tracks is perm
    I have a tendency to defend this MC
    My residency is simply in sensei
    I makes it vivid, on different continents of earth I pivot
    It seems extreme and exquisite but ask it is it
    My style is like a cat from a seventies flick
    Talkin jive as he strut with his afro pick
    Or a predator, just before he stalks his pray
    When I talk this way, I do dismay
    See you're puzzled, now how I think you're trying to juggle
    My mind is like a nine M double, now there's trouble
    The Roots bring you styles and all types of creed
    I sign off but I shall proceed


    I shall, proceed, and continue, to rock the mic (4X)

    Verse Two: Black Thought

    Yo, we could get fly, we could get fly
    We could get fly that's the anthem of my
    crew not to glorify but it's sorta high
    Troubles of the world bring tears to my eye wonder why
    my man, can't vaccinate, y'all know the fate
    Similar to the way I'm a disease on tape
    To escape Metropolis is such a violent state
    I spill words over pages, styles over phrases
    from the world's different stages for crowds of different ages
    Though not a nova, you witness like Jehovah
    Now niggaz beg for lyrical plague to pass them over
    Righ right niggaz is like stick up kids
    Doin bids you got caught, enter the Black Thought
    I interface with bass when I communicate
    Crowds I elevate, to another mindstate of
    rap thinking, see musically the Black thinking rhythm
    therefore, I give em what I'm giving, therefore
    I give em what I'm giving that's the hardcore
    The Roots'll keep it real for sure, and I shall proceed


    Rockin on the microphone I do this well (repeats)
    *crowd cheers*
    The Roots, The Roots!

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