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lirik lagu amerigo gazaway - definition of infinity

[intro: sample + mos def]
“h-llo, everybody. recording live from somewhere.”
looooord… lord have mercy
all nice and decent crew, follow me now, we say
say, hi-tek, yes, you’re ruling hip-hop
say, j. rawls, yes, you’re ruling hip-hop
redefinition, say, you’re ruling hip-hop
say, black star, come to rock it non—

[verse 1: mos def]
yo, from the first to the last of it, delivery is p-ssionate
the whole and not the half of it, forecast and aftermath of it
projectile that them blasted with, accurate -ss-ssin sh-t
me and kweli close like bethlehem and nazareth
after this, you be pressing rewind on top your master disk
shining like an asterisk for all those that be gathering
connecting like a roundhouse from the townhouse to the tenements
’cause all my brooklyn residents, known as heavy regiments
don’t believe, here the evidence—where brooklyn? (whoa)
see that? bound to take it all, kid, believe that
from where they sell they tree at, to where the police be at
talib kweli, e-kweli-ty, yo, tell ’em where we be at;

[verse 2: talib kweli]
brooklyn, new york city, where they paint murals of biggie
in cash we trust, ’cause it’s ghetto fabulous, life look pretty
what a pity—blunts is still fifty cents, it’s intense
tree scents is dominant, can’t be covered with incense
my presence felt my name is kweli from the eternal reflection
people thinking mc is shorthand for misconception
let me meditate, set it straight, came to the conclusion
that most of these cats is featherweight, let me demonstrate
walking the streets is like battling, be careful with your body
you must know karate and think your soul is bulletproof like sade
stop actin’ like a b-tch already, be a visionary
and maybe you can see your name in the column of obituaries
third grade teacher reading and talking about
“i knew he’d amount to nothing.”
neighbors like, “he was the quiet type
who’d have thought they was fronting?”
talking loud like you on rca
get carted away with body parts and trays
what a way to start your day, yo, it’s like—

[hook]
—one, two, three
mos def and talib kweli
we came to rock it on to the tip-top
best alliance in hip-hop, y-o
i said, one, two, three
it’s kind of dangerous to be an mc
they shot 2pac and biggie
too much violence in hip-hop, y-o

[verse 3: mos def]
i said manhattan keep on making it, brooklyn keep on taking it
so, relax, we’re taking it back, red hook where we’re living at
plenty cats be struggling not hustling and bubbling
it ain’t about production and—what else we discussing?
when the c-ck crows, my crop grows, enable me to rock flows
striving for perfection ever since i was a snot-nose
colossal! true, original b-boy apostle
standing on the rooftop with the zulu gestapo

[verse 4: talib kweli]
you think you the sh-t?
somebody in the wings’ll force you to quit
it could be your crew or clique
or some random kid you smoked buddha with
consider me the ent-ty within the industry without a history
of spitting the epitome of stupidity
living my life, expressing my liberty, it gotta be done properly
my name is in the middle of equality
people follow me, and other cats they hear ’em flow
and -ssume i’m the real one with lyrics like i’m cyrano

[verse 5: mos def]
still sipping wishing well water imported from pluto
three hundred and sixty milliliters for all the believers
in miles or kilometers, most cats, cannot precede us
in the jungle with the leaders, we them lions, you the cheetahs
our cypher will complete us as we come through your receivers
you can play us and repeat us and then take us home and read us
(line for line) good jesus! mos def and kweli just
make a p-ssy freeze up; think it over, ease up

[hook]
one, two, three
mos def and talib kweli
we came to rock it on to the tip-top
best alliance in hip-hop, y-o
i said, one, two, three
it’s kind of dangerous to be an mc
they shot 2pac and biggie
hold your head when the beat drop, y-o

[marvin g-ye]:
i’m gone

[andy flory]:
i’m in the tape decks looking for anything
that remotely resembles the words “what’s going on”, “what’s happening, brother”, “right on”, “flying high”
i’m going down the track list and thinking, “there’s gotta be sessions. there’s gotta be outtakes.”
and then there’s this stack of tapes and they all have the songs in sequence. and they’re on two-inch tape which is a mult-track tape where you can separate the instruments, make a mix to stereo. it was all right there. and you play it and you have another holy smokes moment of, “i can hear it. i can re-imagine it.”

- lirik lagu amerigo gazaway

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