INDIE TRIBE – Tribal Council II

Lyrics: Tribal Council II by INDIE TRIBE

[Intro: Jon Keith, nobigdyl., Other]
Tribal Council two
Ninety-five
Yeah, Dyllie, yeah

[Verse 1: nobigdyl.]
In Miami with Aklesso and some soccer tees (I’m with Kless)
With the Zoes, test ’em leave you messy like the soccer team (What a mess)
Way I write the Greek down they think I’m Socrates (Think I’m Socrates)
Pull up to the Travis Scott show with a Coptic priest (Coptic priest)
“Indie tribe ain’t on the move”, man stop it please (Stop it)
You ain’t lookin’ silly as a goose, you a flock of geese (Seagulls)
I found my lyrics on a scroll on a mountain peak (I did, phew)
Even if you climb ten thousand feet, you ain’t toppin’ mе (You ain’t toppin’ that)

[Verse 2: Mogli the Iceburg]
My style’s sicker than the mеn that flew on Epstein’s plane (Little sicko)
Tribe will always go against the grain
I’m done with writin’ lyrics down
Cause at this point them joint don’t hit the same
My younger self would be like, “Man I can’t believe how far you came” (You’re doin’ great)
Conquered the thirty-six chambers off of the wisdom gained from sixty-six books
I bob and weave and move my feet till I can set up the hook
Don’t follow me, just follow Jesus
I ain’t good as I look
And I look good, but not that good
I ain’t no Ashton Kutch— man
I treat the beat like Jean-Claude Van Damme the snare is expendable
Y’all write raps with a crayon
Man that trash indefensible
Really edgy of you flashing pentagrams
At a festival
Y’all goofy, I’ma make sure that you know it
You can criticize what I believe, but trust me I won’t be afraid to show it
Say you real but I can feel you more like vegan leather
Tribe is solid wood and you’re like sheets of paper glued together
That means we’re guaranteed to stand the test of time
Whether I’m gettin’ by from sellin’ my rhymes or sellin’ my time
Or workin’ for a nickel and dime
My brothers and I won’t compromise for nothin’ divine
You know where to find me

[Verse 3: Jon Keith]
Yeah, hallelujah
The chosen uno, on my Bradley Cooper
God stretched me out so I can measure up the body rulers
Clueless, we steady speedin’ they just Stacey Dashin’
Only reason I ain’t eat that boy, I was busy fastin’
Sometimes I feel like Abraham, I almost sacrificed these sons then I saw the lamb
Tribe already won, we just shakin’ hands
They told me rap was competition
I’m like, ‘Where they at?’ (Uh huh)

[Verse 4: Mogli the Iceburg]
You see me pull up on that thoroughbred its nice to meet ya
You go bananas I’m a cargo crate that’s full of chiquitas
Might see me levitating on this beat like Dua Lipa
I tried to tell Jon he should chill
Am I my brother’s keeper

[Verse 5: Jon Keith]
Step in the room, rappers look like the Russians sent the nuke
I’m so sick of tellin y’all that the tribe is on the (Whatever n****)
I ain’t spending no time goin back and fourth with you
95 know how to cook so I ain’t playin with my food
I’m just sayin we them dudes
I just pray you get a clue
Always causin conflict that means you dealin with the truth
Already told you we a gang I don’t know nothing bout a crew
(What you talkin bout?)
Body bags four saddles probably mad
The King evened it with Eve and them
I ain’t into keepin sin
Y’all don’t want no problems with Don
That boy is Jesus kin
Man you look so tired of lyin
Come have a seat my nig
Told you what it be and then
You should’ve believed in them
The big homie Beleaf and them
Like what else would you see from them?
Boy, I can’t lie
I gave my life to Yahweh
I can’t die
The last one hit billboard
My hand’s high
[Verse 6: nobigdyl.]
Thin line between faithful and fakin’ it
Covered in the crimson like Saban is
Freestyle but you know you gotta pay for this
Indie tribe the new rat pack
TSA banned every pen in my backpack
My worst rap put a couple stacks in my cash app
That’s no flex
Made a generation of rap kids with no sex
I know that His eye on a sparrow
So I got no stress
I’ma hit the target with both arrows, a bow flex
Like I’m getting brolic in both arms and both legs
I’ma give you a sec, that was a cold stretch
Dyllie, you rode a wave that I was raised in really
Spent three days inside a killer wale, kin to willy
I had to read the sheet in Greek I might just be Achilles
The live show Bobby Brown and I ain’t talkin Milly
The new edition, the cool Christian, my hooves itchin
We move different it behooves you to move with it
Follow Lamb not a goat-man, are you kiddin?
I guess the fella Cinderella if the shoe fittin
Holy smoke in the ville and I didn’t roll it up
Holy smoke and it’s still holy the joke is up
Holy smoke on the way to Canaan it blazed the way
Thankful that the angel of Yahweh came in and made a way