The Dusty Foot Philosopher - K'NAAN

Yo, just imagine, like whistling down a desert or some shit

Don’t this make you wanna swing like monkeys outta trees?

I don’t got no parameters

This amateur’s famous

All you fame getters

Hate caterers

Our main names are date of births

On a later verse

Make a nigga play reverse (move backwards)

Marching with some soldiers here

We coming over there

The kind of niggas soldiers fear

You just gotta stare

You ain’t got no option (no)

Please relax son

I’m taking over like drug dealer cars to auctions

Oh these are hungry men

These are angry men

Heard you got a lot of guts

They’ll call your bluff

Your shit is laughable

Why you rapping oh

Why don’t you just wrap sandwiches to earn a capital?

And half the shit that you spit

Ain’t even that sick

If you was doing my physical you couldn’t have my shit

Back to my verse flow

I don’t get shit yo

My skills so bright when I spit my lips glow

The dusty foot philosopher

Ripping up kilometers

Winking at you officers da dum da dum da dum

The dusty foot philosopher

Sicking up the monitor

Waking up the auditors da dum da dum da dum

And I’ve seen war and some

Survived the slaughter son

Kids play cops and robbers and not with the water guns

So yeah yeah picture me

And big brother Lee

Walking through the fire

We came to claim our victory

And I roll with a harder pen

I might start a trend

Beat down a wack MC cause you know there’s a lot of them

Wait till my shit crashes

Rip asses

Women who give me neck suffer from whiplashes

I frighten the masses

Cause I’m that nasty

I heard to get a deal you had to give lap dances

This shit is serious

Sincere it is

The people wanted something real

Well yo here it is

My rhymes push records back like a belly button dirty rutting

I got stiff neck steady nuttin' it ain’t nothing

I got the track laid like I’m fucking

The only balls you got is made outta cotton

This is what you waited for

Glad you stayed the chorus

Cause a lot of rappers is getting treated like lady whores

And I don’t like Babylon

I don’t like your song

I don’t like hearing that fake accent from Dylon

The industry commentator

Fuck it I’m a hater

My mind is like your life straight up cause it’s made up

I’m strolling like babies with big ass ladies (yeah)

That rock more fellas than ten thousand daisies

Harder than harbouring Bin Laden inside the bottom compound with Donald

Rumsfield and Bush blood

Moving along like people who don’t want it

Even if I had jewels I’d be the type who don’t run it

They call me dusty cause my feet have been through a lot

The wisdom of my survival that’s just due to Allah

So I’m not gonna sit here and whine like crushed grapes

My mind leaves you speechless like duct tape