Talib Kweli

"What I Seen" by Talib Kweli from Focus (2007)

Covering or sampling the Beatles is often seen as sacrilege, but leave it to Brooklyn native Talib Kweli to do the Fab Four justice. Over an "Elenore Rigby" sampling beat, Kweli laments the sad state of club life and the hip-hop world; everyone's lonely and self-conscious, trying to manifest an image of coolness, shallow and self-absorbed. Taking a line from good friend Dave Chappelle, Kweli makes a strong, economically-minded point regarding the oversexualization of our culture:

"So much cleavage and ass crack / If pussy were stock it would plummet on the NASDAQ."

Always socially aware, Talib delivers a biting commentary, but like many others who preach change and awareness, his words fall upon deaf ears.

[Hook: The Beatles sample (Michelle Williams)]

All the lonely people, where do they all come from?

All the lonely people, where do they all belong?

I look at all the lonely people (I look at all the lonely people)

I look at all the lonely people (I look at all the lonely people)

I look at all the lonely people (yeah) (I look at all the lonely people)

[Intro: Talib Kweli *over hook*]

Yeah I like to go out to clubs

Las Palmas, you know

Cheetahs, Envy if I wanna get grimey wit' it at

Bungalow Eight

Opium down in Miami

But when I walk in, I look around and I think..

[Verse 1]

Yo, I'm headin' out, 'bout to do some flesh and now

I know my flesh endowed with somethin' to prove

I'm settin' out on a trip to Heaven's mount

Yeah, I'm steppin' out in the name of love

Who knew the Devil could slow dance?

We have pathological romances with technological advances

Infatuated with infatuation and

Intellectual masturbation with premature ejaculation

Make a baby mama's all bastardization and

Lonely people all through the city

They club hoppin' and they love

shoppin' and they thug posturin'

Bloods be lockin' horns with Crips on them drug blocks

And them dollars flow right out of the 'hood

When you tryin' to make paper out of the wood

You know that money don't grow on trees

For paper people change colors like leaves

And they fall off in the mud like a filthy pig

Makin' you and your dogs who store all call off

That much deserved ass whippin'

He snitchin', he twitchin', he bitchin', he all soft

Never work with his hands

Little kid on the block who always ran

At all costs, gotta be in the club

Lookin' for happiness or the meaning of love

Then it hit him, out the blue like a vision

All of a sudden he don't like the way he been livin'

And wanna be forgiven

How I know? Cuz I'm right there wit' him

Yo, yo

[Hook]

[Verse 2]

Tattoos tell 'em who you are

Plastic surgery cause your tired of god

Uh, lasers to remove the scar

And then you are, you a supastar, supastar

It's your birthday and you in the club

Talkin' "Holla back" and "Nigga what"

So much cleavage and asscrack

If pussy were a stock it would plummet on the Nasdaq

Blank stares like nobody care

In a room so exclusive nobody there

But really, truth is that nobody there

Cuz it's feelings inside that nobody share

I want God to smile on me

But see, fame is a drug and you wild on E

Celebrities decorated like Christmas trees

God complex like they born on Christmas Eve

Sing a song to yourself and you stand alone

Get nominated for a gold gramophone

Walk the red carpet, left your man at home

Security snatchin' people camera phones

You got rose gold, yellow bottles, pink Cashmere

So ahead of the trend, that's so last year

Last month, last day, last hour, last minute

Your pursuit of crew is so passionate

do this cash in it, laugh in his face

If it's def or anybody who don't stay in his place

So popular can't go no where, folks stoppin' ya

Might want to check a thermometer

When you go to a room heat rises

Surrounded by people still lonely,

that's why you need disguises

Well, Probably

[Hook] x2