Indra - Show My Roots Lyrics

Imma show 'em where my roots are
Imma show 'em where my roots are
Ooh
Back on my Rap shit, because I asked myself
"Where my roots at?" You better show 'em
Imma do just that, wrote so many rhymes
I can fill a rucksack, what's that
Perfecting the act of profaning
Since I started gaming in this rap game
Ain't it strange, how this middle class kid
Amidst the midst found his own niche
Started out bad, after inside out started to pack enough gas
To fuel his jet, out of this world, just to come back to the earth
To drop the sickest verse. My mind is way up in the sky
When I write sci-fi lines about my life
Breaking my back 'cause I carry a lot of curses
Being an outsider sure is one of 'em
Ain't it evident that I can't quit? I just want a kiss from this bitch
Be blessed with the blessing of being one the dopest rappers
In the showbizz, rule it with an iron fist
Living with the pen I'm independent got nothing else
Rapping with a mission got my goal in my scope and I can't afford missing
Rap is in my blood
It's like I can't get enough
These are my roots I'm here for good
Evangelist in this book
Rap artist without a clue
Thinking like a martyr too
Call me delusional
And if I am
This spell feels phenomenal
Ooh
Rap is in my blood
It's like I can't get enough
These are my roots I'm here for good
Evangelist in this book
Rap artist without a clue
Thinking like a martyr too
Call me delusional
And if I am
This spell feels phenomenal
Ooh
I'm like a sponge, I soak up the lyrics
I set up my mic and I kill it
Like a hydrogen bomb, I've been rhyming since
I knew rap was the only evidence
I could use to justify my rap obsessed way of life
But the jury can't judge the way I wanna go
He wouldn't even comprehend my flow
Why do I need to defend myself against a joe schmoe
Who only knows the most obvious road to go
I got the formula to rap as fast as a bullet coming out of a gun
So fast I can call it formula one
Stop rapping? Are you crazy? I'll start spazzing
Like I'm a teen tryna nuke the game clean in M.W.3
Having hell of a good time screaming in the mic
Even when I might sound obnoxious
Little rapper, show 'em who the boss is
Letters I send 'em and stock 'em like a post office but independent
Rap is my goddess, she's in my head twenty-four seven
I bring the most unraveling moves proving what I can do
In this boxing ring including swings that'll bring
Amusing words to life or I might bring
Humanity on the brink of extinction
Using Ink as my WMD ripping the world to pieces
'Cause you motherf*ckers are sleeping too much on me
And other MC's who can actually rap in the booth or on the streets
You better feed me beats 'cause I need some food
I suffered defeat I know how it's like to lose
But like Apollo creed I'm stubborn as a mule
These are my roots keeping me on the move a moving tree call me Groot
I'm oozing saliva 'cause I spit too much on the mic
It's kinda like I got a weird kink for this device
I think it's time to end this ride
Fetch me some ice, goodbye
Until the next track, next bar, next metaphor, next post
Rap is in my blood
It's like I can't get enough
These are my roots I'm here for good
Evangelist in this book
Rap artist without a clue
Thinking like a martyr too
Call me delusional
And if I am
This spell feels phenomenal
Rap is in my blood
It's like i can't get enough
These are my roots i'm here for good
Evangelist in this book
Rap artist without a clue
Thinking like a martyr too
Call me delusional
And if I am
This spell feels phenomenal
Alright stop the track
No, don't stop it
Repeat it
Repeat it