Song | Something In The Way Of Things (In Town) - Album Version (Explicit) |
Artist | The Roots |
Album | Phrenology |
作曲 : A.P. Thompson | |
(feat. Amiri Baraka) | |
In town [repeat 3X] | |
Something in the way of things | |
Something that will quit and won't start | |
Something you know but can't stand | |
Can't know get along with | |
Like death | |
Riding on top of the car peering through the windshield for his cue | |
Something entirely fictitious and true | |
That creeps across your path hallowing your evil ways | |
Like they were yourself passing yourself not smiling | |
The dead guy you saw me talking to is your boss | |
I tried to put a spell on him but his spirit is illiterate | |
I know things you know and nothing you don't know 'cept | |
I saw something in the way of things | |
Something grinning at me and | |
I wanted to know, was it funny? | |
Was it so funny it followed me down the street | |
Greeting everybody like the good humor man | |
But an they got the taste of good humor but no ice cream | |
It was like dat | |
Me talking across people into the houses | |
And not seeing the beings crowding around me with ice picks | |
You could see them | |
But they looked like important | |
Negroes on the way to your funeral | |
Looked like important jiggaboos on the way to your auction | |
And let them chant the number and use an ivory pointer to count your teeth | |
Remember Steppen | |
Fetchit Remember | |
Steppen Fetchit how we laughed | |
An all your | |
Sunday school images giving flesh and giggling | |
With the ice pick high off his head | |
Made ya laugh anyway | |
I can see something in the way of our selves | |
I can see something in the way of our selves | |
That's why | |
I say the things | |
I do, you know it | |
But its something else to you | |
Like that job | |
This morning when you got there and it was quiet | |
And the machines were yearning soft behind you | |
Yearning for that nigga to come and give up his life | |
Standin' there bein' dissed and broke and troubled | |
My mistake is | |
I kept sayin' "that was proof that God didn't exist" | |
And you told me, "nah, it was proof that the devil do" | |
But still, its like | |
I see something | |
I hear things | |
I saw words in the white boy's lying rag said he was gonna die poor and frustrated | |
That them dreams walk which you 'cross town | |
S'gonna die from over work | |
There's garbage on the street that's tellin' you you ain't shit | |
And you almost believe it | |
Broke and mistaken all the time | |
You know some of the words but they ain't the right ones | |
Your cable back on but ain't nothin' you can see | |
But I see something in the way of things | |
Something to make us stumble | |
Something get us drunk from noise and addicted to sadness | |
I see something and feel something stalking us | |
Like and ugly thing floating at our back calling us names | |
You see it and hear it too | |
But you say it got a right to exist just like you and if | |
God made it | |
But then we got to argue | |
And the light gon' come down around us | |
Even though we remember where the (light or mic) is | |
Remember the | |
Negro squinting at us through the cage | |
You seen what | |
I see too? | |
The smile that ain't a smile but teeth flying against our necks | |
You see something too but can't call its name | |
Ain't it too bad y'all said | |
Ain't it too bad, such a nice boy always kind to his motha | |
Always say good morning to everybody on his way to work | |
But that last time before he got locked up and hurt, real bad | |
I seen him walkin' toward his house and he wasn't smiling | |
And he didn't even say hello | |
But I knew he'd seen something | |
Something in the way of things that it worked on him like it do in will | |
And he kept marching faster and faster away from us | |
And never even muttered a word | |
Then the next day he was gone | |
You wanna know what | |
You wanna know what | |
I'm talkin' about | |
Sayin' "I seen something in the way of things" | |
And how the boys face looked that day just before they took him away | |
The is? in that face and remember now, remember all them other faces | |
And all the many places you've seen him or the sister with his child | |
Wandering up the street | |
Remember what you seen in your own mirror and didn't for a second recognize | |
The face, your own face | |
Straining to get out from behind the glass | |
Open your mouth like you was gon' say somethin' | |
Close your eyes and remember what you saw and what it made you feel like | |
Now, don't you see something else | |
Something cold and ugly | |
Not invisible but blended with the shadow criss-crossing the old man | |
Squatting by the drug store at the corner | |
With is head resting uneasily on his folded arms | |
And the boy that smiled and the girl he went with | |
And in my eyes too | |
A waving craziness splitting them into the jet stream of a black bird | |
Wit his ass on fire | |
Or the solom | |
NOTness of where we go to know we gonna be happy | |
I seen something | |
I SEEN something | |
And you seen it too | |
You seen it too | |
You just can't call it's name name name name name name name |
zuò qǔ : A. P. Thompson | |
feat. Amiri Baraka | |
In town repeat 3X | |
Something in the way of things | |
Something that will quit and won' t start | |
Something you know but can' t stand | |
Can' t know get along with | |
Like death | |
Riding on top of the car peering through the windshield for his cue | |
Something entirely fictitious and true | |
That creeps across your path hallowing your evil ways | |
Like they were yourself passing yourself not smiling | |
The dead guy you saw me talking to is your boss | |
I tried to put a spell on him but his spirit is illiterate | |
I know things you know and nothing you don' t know ' cept | |
I saw something in the way of things | |
Something grinning at me and | |
I wanted to know, was it funny? | |
Was it so funny it followed me down the street | |
Greeting everybody like the good humor man | |
But an they got the taste of good humor but no ice cream | |
It was like dat | |
Me talking across people into the houses | |
And not seeing the beings crowding around me with ice picks | |
You could see them | |
But they looked like important | |
Negroes on the way to your funeral | |
Looked like important jiggaboos on the way to your auction | |
And let them chant the number and use an ivory pointer to count your teeth | |
Remember Steppen | |
Fetchit Remember | |
Steppen Fetchit how we laughed | |
An all your | |
Sunday school images giving flesh and giggling | |
With the ice pick high off his head | |
Made ya laugh anyway | |
I can see something in the way of our selves | |
I can see something in the way of our selves | |
That' s why | |
I say the things | |
I do, you know it | |
But its something else to you | |
Like that job | |
This morning when you got there and it was quiet | |
And the machines were yearning soft behind you | |
Yearning for that nigga to come and give up his life | |
Standin' there bein' dissed and broke and troubled | |
My mistake is | |
I kept sayin' " that was proof that God didn' t exist" | |
And you told me, " nah, it was proof that the devil do" | |
But still, its like | |
I see something | |
I hear things | |
I saw words in the white boy' s lying rag said he was gonna die poor and frustrated | |
That them dreams walk which you ' cross town | |
S' gonna die from over work | |
There' s garbage on the street that' s tellin' you you ain' t shit | |
And you almost believe it | |
Broke and mistaken all the time | |
You know some of the words but they ain' t the right ones | |
Your cable back on but ain' t nothin' you can see | |
But I see something in the way of things | |
Something to make us stumble | |
Something get us drunk from noise and addicted to sadness | |
I see something and feel something stalking us | |
Like and ugly thing floating at our back calling us names | |
You see it and hear it too | |
But you say it got a right to exist just like you and if | |
God made it | |
But then we got to argue | |
And the light gon' come down around us | |
Even though we remember where the light or mic is | |
Remember the | |
Negro squinting at us through the cage | |
You seen what | |
I see too? | |
The smile that ain' t a smile but teeth flying against our necks | |
You see something too but can' t call its name | |
Ain' t it too bad y' all said | |
Ain' t it too bad, such a nice boy always kind to his motha | |
Always say good morning to everybody on his way to work | |
But that last time before he got locked up and hurt, real bad | |
I seen him walkin' toward his house and he wasn' t smiling | |
And he didn' t even say hello | |
But I knew he' d seen something | |
Something in the way of things that it worked on him like it do in will | |
And he kept marching faster and faster away from us | |
And never even muttered a word | |
Then the next day he was gone | |
You wanna know what | |
You wanna know what | |
I' m talkin' about | |
Sayin' " I seen something in the way of things" | |
And how the boys face looked that day just before they took him away | |
The is? in that face and remember now, remember all them other faces | |
And all the many places you' ve seen him or the sister with his child | |
Wandering up the street | |
Remember what you seen in your own mirror and didn' t for a second recognize | |
The face, your own face | |
Straining to get out from behind the glass | |
Open your mouth like you was gon' say somethin' | |
Close your eyes and remember what you saw and what it made you feel like | |
Now, don' t you see something else | |
Something cold and ugly | |
Not invisible but blended with the shadow crisscrossing the old man | |
Squatting by the drug store at the corner | |
With is head resting uneasily on his folded arms | |
And the boy that smiled and the girl he went with | |
And in my eyes too | |
A waving craziness splitting them into the jet stream of a black bird | |
Wit his ass on fire | |
Or the solom | |
NOTness of where we go to know we gonna be happy | |
I seen something | |
I SEEN something | |
And you seen it too | |
You seen it too | |
You just can' t call it' s name name name name name name name |