[Verse 1: Black Thought]
Yin for Yang, I walk on a line
Between ghetto slang and stimulation of the mind
Life is a labyrinth of dollars and cents
As I quest for C.R.E.A.M. through the steam so dense
From the sensimilla I puff 'cause the tunnel is tough
Some lick shots with sound, some'll bust from the cannon
Experts original man'll examine
I am in fact lackin' confusion
As to what's real and what's illusion
I come from Illadelph where ya health, you never take for granted
As hot as the equator in a cypher 'round the planet
Or abnormal, niggas appearin' outta portals
And demandin' your soul, who control The Eight Immortals?
But the number 7, in this continual maze
Where nights fight with days
Within my mind marijuan' blaze
And some say I should change my ways
But it's hard to hear the phrase through the havoc and haze
Thought’s style of lyricism'll never cease to accele-rate
It's the great lab dweller
The mentals of The Roots are beyond any computer
The judge prosecutor or the drug distributor
Respect to the ex-Lex Luger, my nigga Malik B the intruder
Phila 5th Dynasty's the future, and DJ Krush is the producer
You're dealin' with the ginseng Roots — we get ya renaissance looser!
Remember me — the Thought
I represent essentially and mentally
Eventually, you'll mention me as Most High
My decibels are most fly
I've come to paint ya Thoughts Black
Yo, Krush, where's it at?!

[Verse 2: Malik B]
The Roots bring it from the Phila 5th, spill the gift
The melody of a felony is straight off a cliff
Now, can I get a witness to dismiss Christmas from the myth list?
Man, that's bogus, let's try to stay focused
You would think it was the 4th of July
'Cause in Illadelph, a round of applause light up the sky
Why? Don't ask me, subtle attitudes sometimes nasty
Foul-mouth bitches walk around, lookin' trashy
Bimbos talkin' about, "Where's the indo?"
Crackheads leavin' babies unattended at the window
To see death, and brothers with strikes who got three left
I'm tryin' to make it, 'cause if I don't, I'll probably take it
But perseverance is a virtue
The person that you think you hurtin' might hurt you
Your celly might jerk, too
Perhaps I'll go to court this time when I'm summoned
But I'm a rebel to the system, so I might not be comin'
So if I fail, man, just give out the bail
It's just more time to write another story to tell
Ill elements drop intelligence
Black Thought, Malik B fuck up they irrelevance
We got strain on the brain from bodies left in the dust
Man, just leave it to us
Look, man, you aim and I'll bust
Fuck betrayal, just trust, over tracks we lust
With DJ Krush from Japan, so no more need to discuss