Talib Kweli — Lo-Fi lyrics

The page contains the lyrics of the song "Lo-Fi" by Talib Kweli.

Lyrics

Lo-Fi, I be pimping poems like I’m Blowfly
The darkness only broken up by the flashing lights that go by So fly, since the days of Rolling with stoners who be chiefing the keef like they love Sosa
Selena Gomez, pull up to any club on a moped
With some dirty ass broke heads look a little
The bouncer be like «go ‘head»
Promoters will walk me right to a table and be like «this is your spread»
Surrounded by the dope and the coke heads, burning candles at both ends
I’m low-key like Thor’s brother but don’t sleep, there’s more of us The people’s champion, recording on the tour bus
As we’re drawing skelly boards on the pavement
To making tapes in the basement
Heeding the call for elevations to tour the nation
Crossing waters, getting searched at the borders, they out of order
Never finding what they looking for, smoking like a bullet hole
I’m a writers be looking to when they look for quotes
A silent hush as soon as I took the floor for Brooklyn though
Not everything is copasetic
But the dope that they peddle never settle for the open credit
The guns fire when shit get drier than the Gobi Dessert
The bishops get together, this the type of behaviour that get the Pope beheaded
The conspire, they level with trees and it’s unrivalled
Going back a while, the story ancient as a sundial
The two thou, seen ‘em pull out in front of the
Some wild, D’Angelo video untitled
Yea, rap tighter than your bible belt
Ring shit, king shit, lions mane, tigers pelt
The flow you beholding be more golden than Midas belt
(I ain’t know you like to get wet)
Get you higher than Michael Phelps
In a world we murder over slice
And the only time you hoping God bless you is when you sneeze, right?
All the real music fans be like
Indie 500
man built this with my bare hands
And I made a living off of making circles square dance
Pardon my je-ne-sais-quoi, now we flying Air France
Wifi on the plane, I tweet «Joey «California brother in the 80's like hair bands
The smell of the rare pants go «whoa!», Rick Flair pants
More passionate than six bear fans
I swear mans, I swear I never share plans
These muthafuckas be quick to buy that deal
Everybody know that this the shit right here
My pen skills with the pencils got me big fans like windmills
Superman flow, I could bend steel
In a game where everybody pretends to be real and trends kill
The flow like electrified fence feels
Ok, been there with the afro, on the floor
Mushrooms and big freaking
And time flies when you can see the hour on the hand move
Party doesn’t start until I Christopher Walken
Ok, Zorro with the sword and cape out
No tripping on the money cause there’s more to make out
I transcend time, broken watches never coordinated
Ignore the hate, beat the noise that makes, Brazilian
I’m just coordinating my energy accordingly
I’m putting myself in a place most rappers can’t afford to be Snort the flow drink the shots
With a Georgia piece
And I’m pouring out for all the homies that had to leave for war and peace
So I say shit metaphorically and never let it get more of me Jamla is the squad and Khrysis got the jam