Philadelphia

[Talib Kweli] 
We your rhyme sayers we lead you like a beacon 
of light out of the chaos cuttin down overzealous 
players who stare we're the winners of the game 
Walk in we'l prepared climbin the stairways 
to heaven while you scared of the people livin under 
ground heard the sound of the clap made you wonder 
If it was a gun the crowd or some thunder 
All of that was out my window when I was younger 
Now I'm much older, lyrical clap MC's 
If you don't know by now, let me aquaint you with my steez 
(C'mon) I don't get on stage and waste your time 
Niggaz got a lot to say but they just can't rhyme 
They just babies, I snatch em out they incubators 
Attach them to respirators, they breathin hard like Darth Vader 
Hard as candy and suck like Now or Laters 
After a while your style's tasteless and it GOT NO FLAVOR 

[Bahamadia] 
Projects my eyesights to the heavens like dead or wise sages 
Release what I hold save it through my book of rhyme pages 
Scripts be ageless, like scrolls from dead sea 
The cadence off and on like the motion of Tai Chi 
Ba-ha-ma-D, wor-dy, to Reflect, Eternally 
Science to a remedy to help and get my people free, but 
little support, got my thesis on freeze 
My only option's doin bootlegs for the Japanese 
Get about eight G's, a heavy buzz overseas 
Sacrifice a pill to mainstream and do what I believe, cause 
down to the chromosomes I'm a purist to this artform 
Enlighten who I touch and let the world catch on 

[Talib Kweli + Bahamadia] 
Yeah, we your rhyme sayers, who lead you like a beacon 
of light, out of the chaos, cuttin down overzealous 
players who stare, we're the winners of the game 
Walk in well prepared, climbin the stairways 
to heaven while you scared of the people livin under- 
-ground heard the sound of the clap, made you wonder 
If it was a gun, the crowd, or some thunder 
All of that was out my window when I was younger 

[Bahamadia] 
Oppose for the nine, how no content sections of the earth 
Walkin vexed, out of my sticks, laced on every verse 
My cells begin to peak at least a hundred thousand hertz 
Meanin my joint's prevalent in Fat Beats and Footworks 
I cater to these markets first, cause they gravitate to me 
And appreciate the vision of what I do musically 

[Talib Kweli] 
Mmm, mmmm, mmmm, mmm!! 
I walked in and they stared, see how they screwin me 
Break you down, til you ain't the man you used to be 
Domination of my jurisdiction, people's addiction to lies 
It blurs the lines between the fact and fiction 
Now we back omission, I fix your face for you, keep yappin 
You start to hate the man in the mirror like Michael Jackson 

[Bahamadia] 
Majors they try to hold me captive but mine are figure factions 
But the foundation of hip-hop hold my braincells for ransom 
I chance none, fuck them spots on charts and number one 
If it's meant, then I'll accept it gracious when the time comes 
This grassrooted curriculum, got me sprung like twisted ankles 
Experience is missable, so I approach it from all angles and 
inject some substance deep inside of rap's core 
Take an MC and back to where it was before 

[Talib Kweli] 
Call us Liberty like the Bell of Philadelphia scenery 
Me and Bahama-D, style free like Mumia need to be 
Seein me, feelin me, we right here on the level 
Turnin hardrocks to pebbles, exposin the devil 
Lyrical olympian like John Carlos winnin gold medal 
Take that bass out yyour voice you talk to me in treble 
I'm _Serious_ as Steady B so you know I ain't playin 
I'm stimulatin, makin crowds MOVE like organizations in Philly 
Keep it positive, my prerogative is exercise 
See through the chaos with my third eye 
Word I exhibit the exquitiness, since a child I was vivid 
Throw your hands in the air if you with it, dig it 

[Talib Kweli + Bahamadia] 
Yeah, we your rhyme sayers, who lead you like a beacon 
of light, out of the chaos, cuttin down overzealous 
players who stare, we're the winners of the game 
Walk in well prepared, climbin the stairways 
to heaven while you scared of the people livin under- 
-ground heard the sound of the clap, made you wonder 
If it was a gun, the crowd, or some thunder 
All of that was out my window when I was younger 

[Talib Kweli] 
Seven-eighteen, to five-one-three 
We meet at two-one-five 
Reflection Eternal, Bahamadia, yes yes 

[Xzibit] 
Yo listen the fuck up y'all 
It's Mr. X to the Z Xzibit 
Broadcastin with the home grown 
That's right, they straight out of my backyard 
The Beat Junkies, on Rawkus Records understand me? 
It's Soundbombing 2!