The Roots, Yasiin Bey - Double Trouble lyrics

We go wow, ba da da dow da dah dow
Either stand tall, or just sit the fuck down
All the way from the 2-1-5th to Bucktown
Brace yourself, it's about to go down
(Runnin one-on-one, the only Hip-Hop band)
Yo Tariq
(Whassup?) How your microphone sound?
(It sound tight) Well aight
Show 'em what it's about
We got to blow up the spot
Because they must have forget we double
(Trouble) bubble (Bubble) bubble
Bubblin' hot

Well it's like
Smack the track up and leave dents in it
The vocalist, busting this blunt
Instrument spit
The magnificent, rappers run from it
All fly girls' nipples and toes numb from it
MC's in my circumference, is confronted son
Get your growth stunted from this
You don't want it
(What nigga?) The Black Thought and
M-O-S Def done it
Who the ultimate? Yo my man speak upon it
Ayo, I stop fools and drop
Jewels but never run it rock mics so nice
I make you stock price plummet
All you high noon riders better
Rally at the summit
It's me and Tariq and your fleet outnumbered
Cross the membrane
Barking big game and get hunted
Eye witness account
Say it happened so sudden
Just slid off to the side
Didn't really say nuttin
Then BLAOW, blew away the 1900th
You better get your rest cause
The next day comin
Oh yes, and MCs, they scared to say sum'tin
Stop frontin, I'm in the cut just onlookin
Your get your kings, your rooks
Rings and pawns tooken
Ayo, keep your tape rolling so
You catch every bar
Of the Black Thought and the
Black man from Black Star
Illadelph and Vietnam, we conference
Accomplish even with stakes inclined
I get mine regardless
Yo, a lot of Smurfette MCs carry purses
And rock uniforms that's made for nurses
I burst your verses, your words is worthless
Only touching surface
The fuck's the purpose?
I shot the sherriff, the deputy
And head of bank treasury
So mounties in the county got
A big bounty stressin me
But tell 'em to hold off
They too short to measure me
Mos and Black Thought blast
Forth with the weaponry
Like blaow ba dow da da dow da dah dow
Either stand tall or sit the fuck down
All the way from the 2-1-5th to Bucktown
Brace yourself, it's about to go down
Yo Tariq
(Whassup?) How your microphone sound?
(It sound tight) Well aight
Show 'em what it's about
We got to blow up the spot
Because they must have forget we double
(Trouble) bubble (Bubble) bubble
Bubblin' hot

Yeah, now check your stove top
Before you take a listen
And make sure beans don't burn in the kitchen
These gassed-up niggas just
Ain't fuel efficient
I play the winter breeze to
Choke hold your piston
Now you niggas can't make pole position
Class E chassis can't hold the transmission
Crew pit useless, they got they tools missing
Watch me, Grand Prix
Champy for wealth driven
Yo, you go one for my hustle
(Ha) two to rock rhyme
From the muscle kid I'm one of
The illest of all time
I swing from chandeliers and wall climb
And specialize in warfares of all kind
A lot of MCs said I'm a run it down rhyme
But half the time
They running down one of mine
Thought suffocating 'em with yet
Another stunning line
You dumb and blind kid
It's enlarged and underlined
What I memorized leave your
Whole staff pressurized
Melt down all of your artificial lies
Y'all niggas is faker than Yellow No 5
Swine like mono and diglyceride
My vocals got texture, you just texturized
I'm nicer than your writtens
Even when I'm improvised
Step into my zone get flown like fly
By the b-boy Lazarus who just won't die
Yo, me and Kamal and Leonard Hubbard
Questlove and Malik we go back to dollar
Hoagies and Tahitian Treat
Or like toast in the oven
With government cheese bubbling
Me and Dante like Marvin
The trouble men travelling
Give me the mic, we on that again
B-boy business
Off the top acting and battling
Serving them cats that forgot
But don't get too close because
You might get shot
Like blaow ba dow da da dow da dah dow
Either stand tall or sit the fuck down
All the way from the 2-1-5th to Bucktown
Brace yourself, it's about to go down
Yo Tariq
(Whassup?) How your microphone sound?
(It sound tight) Well aight
Show 'em what it's about
We got to blow up the spot
Because they must have forget we double
(Trouble) bubble (Bubble) bubble
Bubblin' hot
We go blaow ba dow da da dow da dah dow
Either stand tall or sit the fuck down
All the way from the 2-1-5th to Bucktown
Went from Do You Want More?!
To what you want now? Yo Tariq
(Whattup?) Well how your microphone sound?
(It sound tight) Well aight
Show 'em what it's about
We got to blow up the spot
Because they must have forget we double
(Trouble) bubble (Bubble) bubble
Bubblin' hot

Say here's a little story that must be told
About two young brothers who got so much soul
They taking total control
Of the body and brain
Flying high in the sky on a lyrical plane
It's just two bad brothers
Who will never quit
Mos Def and Tariq from the 2-1-5th
They rock beginning to end
On a spiritual blend
And everybody who forgot then
Baby tell 'em again it's just me and Tariq
With Ahmir on the beat
The Roots crew baby, yo
We got to make it unique
We got the soul-shockinest, body-rockinest
Non-stoppinest, Fortified Live survive
The apocalypse
Rhymes we say, the perfect blend
Because we know how to rock
When the beat come in
Like zen-zen-zen-zen-zen
Zen-zen-zen-zen-zen, zen-zen, zen-zen
Zen zen-zen, ZEN zen zen ZEN zen zen
Zen zen, ZEN zen zen-zen
Zen-zen-zen, ZEN zen ZEN zen
Here we go, here we, here we, here we go
Zen zen-zen, ZEN zen zen ZEN zen zen
Zen zen, ZEN zen zen-zen
Zen-zen-zen-zen-zen, zen-zen, zen-zen
Let the poppers pop, and the breakers break
Then zen-zen-zen-zen-zen
Zen-zen-zen-zen-zen, zen-zen, zen-zen
Two years ago, a friend of mine
Zen zen, ZEN zen, zen-zen zen-zen
Zen zen zen zen zen zen zen
And these are the zen zen zen zen