One Time - The Roots, Phonte, Dice Raw

Yo, the spirit in the sky scream, «Homicide!»

But it was time to ride on some niggas funny talking

If too much money talking, we make 'em economize

Real rap, no tale spinning, such is the life of a kamika-

Ze pilot, we wylin' out of control

Until we all make the funny papers like Comic-Con

Feared in all streets, so if you ever see me out in y’all streets

Find another one to occupy

I never hope for the best, I wish a nigga would

Turn around and walk away, I wish a nigga could

Listen to my instincts and say, «Fuck the rest»

But once you’ve had the best better ain’t as good

Weak-heartedness cannot be involved

Stick to the script, nigga, fuck your improv

Like a samurai, the street’s Hammurabi Code

Play your part, shut the fuck up and do as I was told

I was always late for the bus

Just once can I be on time?

Then I start to think, what’s the rush?

Who wants to be on time?

Feeling unlucky

And if I ever got lucky, it was one time

In this crazy world

Not a thing I fear besides fear itself

This is clearly a lesson learned for someone else

Reach for the crown of thorns upon the shelf

Cross around my neck, I’ve been taught by stealth

Capture this moment in time, it’s a smash and grab

And where my party people?

Y’all finna have a blast

You say goodbye, I say hello first and last

Hello hello, now all of y’all elevate your glass

To an example of what time will do to you

When those nameless things just keep on eluding you

When shit is new to you and lies is true to you

Words of suspects-usual coming though to you

Man, I guess if I was ever lucky it was one time

Then I went missing, looking for the sublime

A nigga stayed low, left the ladder unclimbed

Time after time, verse blank, the line unrhymed

You ever wonder what’s the big fuss

For everyone be on time?

What’s the big deal?

Why do they feel?

The need to have us marching on line

Feeling unlucky

And if I’d ever got lucky, it was one time

In this crazy world

I wonder when you die, do you hear harps and bagpipes?

If you born on the other side of the crack pipe

Niggas learn math just to understand the crack price

Then dive in head first like a jackknife

Cause out here, yo, you niggas can’t belly flop

If you wanna make the noise inside your belly stop

One time means being on the front line

Being on the front line means ducking one time

The pendulum swinging my way couldn’t be more blind

Niggas talk to the cops?

Not even one time

Cause we all going down just like the subprime

Or a cheap ass half gallon of Ballantine

But hopping over gates to escape is sublime

Been through the alley way and down to the sub line

Tales from the streets, a life of high crime

To make it to the bottom, such a high climb

I was always late for the bus

Just once can I be on time?

Then I start to think, what’s the rush?

Who wants to be on time?

Feeling unlucky

And if I ever got lucky, it was one time

In this crazy world