Lyrics:

'Man, I ain't bullshittin'!'

Hold your flix, I'm not for the photo ops
It's Black, code name Yaphet Kotto, ahk
My twist like a ratchet in an auto-shop
Since granddaddy' old DeSoto stopped
And he got the Caddie, I been gladly servin'
Any y'all cats wanna act determined
Spit pesticides for rats and vermin
Seem like none of y'all chumps is learning
Y'all hopeless, and I'm a little better than dopest
Far from a brand new kid, this showbiz
Tryna hold on, maintain my focus
Coming out the room with a cloud of smokers
Rolling with the punches, I'm surviving
Rock 'cause I keep the crowd alive
And the texture of my voice is coarse
And kind of hoarse and cut like I'm throwing a thousand knives, man

Party people, gather 'round
What we have here is a brand new sound
Reach for my waist, you hit the ground
You better duck when that awful sound goes...
(Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom)
Yeah! Thats what's happenin' in the parking lot
(Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom)
Yeah! That's what's happening on stage

The man at hand that rule the school
And reach and teach the blind and find a way from A to Z
And be the most to boast, I'm loud and proud
The game and reign that remain (Yeah, Kane!)
The heat is on, so feel the fire come off the empire
Or the more higher level of depth, one step beyond dope
The suckers all scope and hope to cope, but – nope!
'Cause I could never let 'em on top of me
I play 'em out like a game of Monopoly
Let it speed around the board like an Astro
Then send 'em to jail for trying to pass 'Go'
Shaking 'em up, breaking 'em up, taking no stuff
But it still ain't loud enough
So Questlove, let the volume grow
So I can flow and we can kill the whole show, 'cause –

Party people, gather 'round
What we have here is a brand new sound
Reach for my waist, you hit the ground
You better duck when that awful sound goes...
(Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom)
Yeah! That's what's happenin' in the parking lot
(Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom)
Yeah! That's what's happening on stage

Yeah –
A mind designed to find a rhyme that's right on time
One step beyond and not behind the line
That separates thought from divine
You can take it as a caution, or a warning sign
Look for antonyms – words, I'm sending 'em
Homonyms, synonyms – good like M&Ms
You know the time when it's 'Riq Geez slicing
I turn a mic's last name into Tyson
My brain like a factory, constantly creating
Materials, stitch by stitch for decoration
My lyrics are fabric, the beat is a lining –
My passion of rhyming is fashion designing
Now it get sorted, 'cause people wanna sport it – ya bought it
If you didn't, then you couldn't afford it
Poetry full of surprises, it's like a game show
And my brain go, 'I do my thing, yo!'

Party people, gather 'round
What we have here is a brand new sound
Reach for my waist, you hit the ground
You better duck when that awful sound goes...
(Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom)
Yeah! That's what's happening in the parking lot
(Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom)
Yeah! That's what's happening on stage