Talib Kweli - Great Expectations lyrics

Kweli:

My nigga Punchline want his money

Yo, this is a capitalist society

Yo! Hello world, how y'all doin?

Don't be shy, y'all can wave back, man I know y'all can't see me

Oh you got it?

Verse 1: Talib Kweli

Talib Kweli Ichiban in Japan is mush-mush

Yo, I'm able to keep it fresh like veggie tables and couscous

Got my comp in a catch deuce-deuce

Livin proof, you want the truth? Nah, you can't handle the truth

I flip it like any Angelo, be it Michael- or D'

Paint the ceiling with my sounds, smoke trees with melodies

I enter the palace with no malice intended

If L's make you cough a chalice is recommended

Particularly filled with sticky that I got from Manny

I'm breakin mics like Amy Fisher breakin' a family

It can be, all so simple if you let it

If you don't want to, fuck it, forget it, yo, don't sweat it

You feel little when you let the power of the rhythm hit you

White widow got my eyes Chinese

But sharp as leaves of paper cuttin' your skin

Whenever I write with my pen and make a point

Y'all be like, "Yeah, that's the joint"

Yo Matt, got the track on they DAT

That make it easy to complete ‘cause I write shit with or without a beat

See you on the hook like a fish we knock it out, no doubt,

The shit fixed like carols at Christmas

So bounce, come on, bounce, come on

I lock you in my sentence and the shit's a run-on

Tokyo, where you at?

Brooklyn, where you at?

CHORUS:

Kweli next to be up, so I suggest you re-up

Or freeze up like you hear a shot

Now I can trace the tracks of all the teardrops of every single MC in earshot

I fear not or none, number one, Ichiban, none, number one, Ichiban

VERSE 2: Talib Kweli

I get my camouflage from Weiss/Mahoney

My rhymes are worth the price of Sony

Your light like last for one minute like Rice-A-Roni

Son, I'm nice, you're phoney It seems all you want in life's to know me

I'm colder than when the ground's covered with ice and it's snowy

One and only Talib Kweli from Eternal Reflect

Yo, I come to Tokyo where everything is Hi-Tek

So I feel right at home, rightin' poems, fightin' clones

Who bite my own style cause they ain't got one, I got drive while you ride shotgun

Please stop, son I watch “Get on the Bus” a lot

And all this shabuya has got to stop I'm just playin'

Japanese culture is like amazin', animation is like hair-raisin

Kick selection got no limit eatin' seaweed, maybe one day I get with it

But when I see weed I'm smokin', heh, I'm just jokin', really not though

My homie Common told me, “Arigato”

My art got no Boundaries like Pablo Picasso

Who? You don't know, you never knew Big up to Ru

See you in the show on the Avenue Of the Americas etcetera, etcetera

You get the point, you want hot shit, I got a plethora

Classics, it's the best of Brooklyn, New York City, so we're never comin' shitty

I get more love in Japan than “Hello Kitty”

Such a pity, these MC's think they hangin' with me

Catch me on Japanese MTV with Mos Diddy

CHORUS:

Kweli is next to be up, so I suggest you re-up

Or freeze up like you hear shots

Now I can trace the tracks of all the teardrops of every single MC in earshot

I fear not or none, number one, Ichiban, none, number one, Ichiban

None, number one, Ichiban, no-no-no-no-no...

Here we go, one, two, come on Here we go, one, two, come on

Yo, I'm out......peace