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The Roots - Текст песни Good music preclude
[Black Thought]
 On the actual, I swings like I'm Satchel
 And brings groovy things to my peoples on the natural
 Inclined to align, index to other flow and through beats
 the butta kid got yet another bid to serve
 in groovy stew, peace to all the kids who smuggle buddha
 cross the border cause it beez a remedy to ?cola roda?
 Recruiter of refugees, the urbanite objects
 Wreck to catch the gravy, grass be the po' baby
 that I planted in the long run, dig the rhythmic song from
 the one who goes left see, how many brothers test me?
 Touch, the texture of the weak and yo I wrecks the comb
 from picking cause I'm cool and umm, kicks 'pon the domeThe Roots - Good music preclude - http://ru.motolyrics.com/the-roots/good-music-preclude-lyrics.html
 I'm kicking, on the regular I puts masses in motions
 Shit'll split your mind open like a canteloupe then
 The Roots and the boots Don boost to stomp potholes
 Mr. Job Kicker, ease off, cause I got soul enough
 to sell it, yo let spell it, B-L-A-C-K
 T-H-O-U-G-H-T don't play
 When I skits off a land funk that boogies up your pants and
 kicks flavor dug by your gramps in Johansen
 Jazz cats that's hip, plus them brothers who scramble
 Your uncle and your cousins and the wino who gamble..
Hahaha, and for my next trick










