This song seemingly tackles the methods of deception those who manipulate others use to get victims to follow their demands, as well as diverting attention away from important issues. They'll also use it as a means to convince people to hate or kill others by pretending acts of terrorism were committed by the enemy when the acts themselves were done by the masters of control to promote discrimination and hate. It also reinforces the idea that these manipulative forces operate in various locations, infiltrating everyday life without detection, and propagate any and everywhere.
In general, it highlights the danger of hidden agendas, manipulation, and distraction, serving as a critique of those who exploit chaos and confusion to control and gain power, depicting a cautionary tale against falling into their traps. It encourages us to question the narratives presented to us and remain vigilant against manipulation in various parts of society.
The year is 1975 (yeah)
Brooklyn, New York City (stand up)
A child destined for greatness is born (we goin' in)
Let's go
Get your hands in the air (get em up!)
Put your hands in the air (put em up!)
Get your hands in the air (get em up!)
Put your hands in the air (put em up!)
Talk shit now, what? What?
Talk shit now, what?
Talk shit now, what?
Talk shit now, what?
Talk shit now
Say something, say something (what was that?)
Say something (I dare you), say something (yeah)
The Lord Chief Rocka, I'm colder than meatlockers
My people keep throwin' it up like cheap vodka
I smack internet MC's and beat bloggers
You can see my Black Thought like 'Riq Trotter
It's deep, go ahead and sleep, they know in the street
Kwe' gon flow on the beat proper composin' complete operas
Longer than a cigar that's Godfather
Tappin' two heart chakras, I'm harder than Gobstoppers
People comin' for the throne not knowin the seat hotter
Than fish grease, criminal names on police blotters
You can miss me, I hit targets like top shotters
Out in the Mideast like Muslims takin' Shahada
I'm sayin makin' a profit, a product of Reaganomics
Awake and I'm stayin' conscious to radio playin garbage (yeah)
Blacksmith Music, if you don't pay homage
I'ma show you how we break an artist
That's a threat, I'm not makin a promise
Speak to the people like Barack Obama
They worship like the black Madonna, c'mon
Niggas talk shit, but they ain't got skills
I'm the type of nigga to put lead in your grill
Number two pencil is sharper to bruise mentals, and
Beatin in my chest is the heart of a true gentleman
Still spit right in your face
Fuck a Top 8, back up, gimme my space, you're not safe
Hahahaha
Yeah, they say I'm back, but I ain't go nowhere though (uh-h)
Been here the whole time (yes)
Where you been? You back
Matter fact, apologize
Talk shit now, what? What?
Talk shit now (huh)
Talk shit now, what?
Talk shit now, what?
Talk shit now (c'mon)
Say something (g'ahead)
say something (huh?)
Say something (what? Who is it?)
say something (Jean Grae, yeah)
Open your mouth, say somethin', I fuckin' dare you
Chokin' you out 'til you can't suck any air through
Fuck with your man too
thinkin' I can't do what I plan to vet vandal, niggas are brand new
Ain't knew I was bad news, look at the tattoos
Get ran through like you was fingers through Sassoon
Horror chick in the bathroom, off the backstage room
Shit you couldn't imagine, nigga I'll harass you
I'll Ras Kass you, Soul on Ice and body cast dude
Past due, Jean and Kwe' the last two action heroes
Actually had the capacity, to be the ones in a class of zeroes
Hip-hop's not dead, it was on vacation
We back, we bask in the confrontation
You can ask me, have any conversation (c'mon)
You talk shit, Blacksmith, Jean, I'm waitin' nigga
Talk shit now, what? What?
Talk shit now (huh)
Talk shit now, what?
Talk shit now, what?
Talk shit now (c'mon)
Say something (g'ahead)
say something (What was that?)
Say something (I dare you)
say something
We not fallin' for your trick 'cause your image is like a gimmick
Forget it every rhyme is bitten, you like a mimic
I'm talkin' to the Lord and I'm askin' him for forgiveness
Just for kickin' niggas out the club like Michael Richards
Yeah I admit, I'm guilty, the way I spit is filthy
I keep it gritty so they get it they feel me, the flow
Is known for touchin' the soul of street hustlers
I speak in the language they know I keep customers
The writin' therapeutic, it's due to the pain and sufferin'
While these dudes get it confused and abuse the creative substance
I'm givin you a contact high, my name buzzin'
And I came in the game with nothin', stop frontin' nigga
Talk shit now
The year of the Blacksmith is not defined by any calendar
Just thought I'd remind all you challengers
Get the name right, BKMC, Talib Kweli, say it again
Get your hands in the air (get 'em up)
Put your hands in the air (put 'em up)
Get your hands in the air (get 'em up)
Put your hands in the air (put 'em up)
Brooklyn, New York City (stand up)
A child destined for greatness is born (we goin' in)
Let's go
Get your hands in the air (get em up!)
Put your hands in the air (put em up!)
Get your hands in the air (get em up!)
Put your hands in the air (put em up!)
Talk shit now, what? What?
Talk shit now, what?
Talk shit now, what?
Talk shit now, what?
Talk shit now
Say something, say something (what was that?)
Say something (I dare you), say something (yeah)
The Lord Chief Rocka, I'm colder than meatlockers
My people keep throwin' it up like cheap vodka
I smack internet MC's and beat bloggers
You can see my Black Thought like 'Riq Trotter
It's deep, go ahead and sleep, they know in the street
Kwe' gon flow on the beat proper composin' complete operas
Longer than a cigar that's Godfather
Tappin' two heart chakras, I'm harder than Gobstoppers
People comin' for the throne not knowin the seat hotter
Than fish grease, criminal names on police blotters
You can miss me, I hit targets like top shotters
Out in the Mideast like Muslims takin' Shahada
I'm sayin makin' a profit, a product of Reaganomics
Awake and I'm stayin' conscious to radio playin garbage (yeah)
Blacksmith Music, if you don't pay homage
I'ma show you how we break an artist
That's a threat, I'm not makin a promise
Speak to the people like Barack Obama
They worship like the black Madonna, c'mon
Niggas talk shit, but they ain't got skills
I'm the type of nigga to put lead in your grill
Number two pencil is sharper to bruise mentals, and
Beatin in my chest is the heart of a true gentleman
Still spit right in your face
Fuck a Top 8, back up, gimme my space, you're not safe
Hahahaha
Yeah, they say I'm back, but I ain't go nowhere though (uh-h)
Been here the whole time (yes)
Where you been? You back
Matter fact, apologize
Talk shit now, what? What?
Talk shit now (huh)
Talk shit now, what?
Talk shit now, what?
Talk shit now (c'mon)
Say something (g'ahead)
say something (huh?)
Say something (what? Who is it?)
say something (Jean Grae, yeah)
Open your mouth, say somethin', I fuckin' dare you
Chokin' you out 'til you can't suck any air through
Fuck with your man too
thinkin' I can't do what I plan to vet vandal, niggas are brand new
Ain't knew I was bad news, look at the tattoos
Get ran through like you was fingers through Sassoon
Horror chick in the bathroom, off the backstage room
Shit you couldn't imagine, nigga I'll harass you
I'll Ras Kass you, Soul on Ice and body cast dude
Past due, Jean and Kwe' the last two action heroes
Actually had the capacity, to be the ones in a class of zeroes
Hip-hop's not dead, it was on vacation
We back, we bask in the confrontation
You can ask me, have any conversation (c'mon)
You talk shit, Blacksmith, Jean, I'm waitin' nigga
Talk shit now, what? What?
Talk shit now (huh)
Talk shit now, what?
Talk shit now, what?
Talk shit now (c'mon)
Say something (g'ahead)
say something (What was that?)
Say something (I dare you)
say something
We not fallin' for your trick 'cause your image is like a gimmick
Forget it every rhyme is bitten, you like a mimic
I'm talkin' to the Lord and I'm askin' him for forgiveness
Just for kickin' niggas out the club like Michael Richards
Yeah I admit, I'm guilty, the way I spit is filthy
I keep it gritty so they get it they feel me, the flow
Is known for touchin' the soul of street hustlers
I speak in the language they know I keep customers
The writin' therapeutic, it's due to the pain and sufferin'
While these dudes get it confused and abuse the creative substance
I'm givin you a contact high, my name buzzin'
And I came in the game with nothin', stop frontin' nigga
Talk shit now
The year of the Blacksmith is not defined by any calendar
Just thought I'd remind all you challengers
Get the name right, BKMC, Talib Kweli, say it again
Get your hands in the air (get 'em up)
Put your hands in the air (put 'em up)
Get your hands in the air (get 'em up)
Put your hands in the air (put 'em up)
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So is this the first Michael Richards rhyme or did someone else beat him to it?