Clap! - Soulive, Black Thought

Clap your hands

It just ain’t real without Roots crew in it

And if you feeling Soulive, keep doing it

(and to whoever in front) You know what you can get

Y’all phobic off of this like we was arachnids

Drastic, it ain’t plastic it’s pro-blackness

Type of cat to pull a arsenal out the mattress

Blasts on em sipping cognac out the cactus

Beating backwards tell them killer pediatrics

It’s Willy Gank hillbilly bank, we miraculous move

I’m in it to win it yo, I can’t just lose

The women so anxious to choose

My soul so live from the crown to the shoes

I keep it South Philly with the downtown groove

I cool out spitting some joints that sound smooth

I even throwing tomahawks and laying down crews

My think tight son i crack necks like Bruce

I don’t shoot hoops I shoot dumb dudes

I might got a hoop imma make you jump through

Just recognize truth so when we come through

Clap your hands

Come on, clap your hands

Come on, clap to the music

It just ain’t real without Roots crew in it

And if you feeling Soulive, keep doing it

(and to whoever in front) You know what you can get, uh!

Yo, hey yo country’s at war

Little kids cry, rape, god damn it

The ghetto is the planet of the apes

Massive meltdown send in the red tape

With the cinder block shoes at the bottom of the lake

I’m from the city of sin the state of the art

Using no book and no pen for making the mark

A rap clubber lane hit em with the gutter slang

I know you’re insane, we another thang

The track bang

We put it to y’all chumps you so corny

My name, Black Thought the one person army

All the intellectuals and the thugs adore me

My lyrical range, from complex to strange

Wrecking your brain when the rhyme texture change

Hip hop fiends tapping they arm and catch a vein

Emcees scared to death, wishing i never came

Clap your hands

Come on, clap your hands

Come on, clap everybody

Come on, clap to the music

It just ain’t real without Roots crew in it

And if you feeling Soulive, keep doing it

(and to whoever in front) You know what you can get, uh!

Everybody on they jawn

Cartoons and soft porn

It ain’t no after school paper routes mowing lawns

Kids got backpacks full of yayo and heron

Coming into school shooting up the auditorium

It’s Psycho Killers week on Court TV

The least of y’all worries should be Thought’s CD

The Chairman of the Board copping snorts weekly

They done caught the minister with a pork BLT

My shit ain’t hot

Yo they probably drop me, psych!

Something i can never let myself see, can’t see

I’m thoroughbred nothing fancy

Remain calm no matter what the circumstance be

It’s the principle pillowcase full of nickels

That will smack, like a man kick you

Leave em crippled

Keep talking breezy imma big lip you

Yo homeboy ya get slid with you

Clap your hands

Come on, clap your hands

Come on, clap everybody

Come on, clap to the music

It just ain’t real without Roots crew in it

And if you feeling Soulive, keep doing it

(and to whoever in front) You know what you can get, uh!

Every time I turn around

They tryna take my breath away

On some shit like that…