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[Q-tip]:
Listen up everybody the bottom line I'm a black intellect, but unrefined with precision like a bullet, target bound just livin like a hooker, the harlett sounds now when I say the harlett, you know I mean the hott V-A-V-A-Vader, the brothers in the spot Jalick, Jalick ya wind up ya hit Captain of the poets, I'm the #7 pick lick, lick, lick boy on your backside lick, lick, lick boy on your backside listen to the fader, Shaheed lets it glide Tip the earthly body heavens on my side even in Santo Domingo Can I gotta Gringo we got mikes when do we go know a little nigga who can ryhme when you ask me short, dark, and plus his voice is raspy Phife Dawg 1 for the treble 2 for the bass you know the style Tip it's time to flip this I like my beats hard like two day old shit steady eatin booty M.C's like cheese Grits My man Al B. Sure, he's in effect mode used to have a crush on Dawn from En Vogue it's not like honey dip would wanna get with me but just in case I own more condoms then T.L.C. now the formula is this Me, Tip, and Ali for those who can't count it goes 1-2-3 The answer(scratch-Damn right I'm)Hiccup is how i be brothers find it's hard to do but never me some brothers try to dis my malik you see'm ditchin me now cure all the B.B. M.C.'s my shit is hittin trainin gladiator, anti-hesitater Shaheed push the fader from here to Granada Mr. energetic, who me sound pathetic when's the last time you heard a funky diabetic? (I don't know man(3x)) (I don't know(2x)) [Chorus]: (Oh My God yes, Oh my god(10)) [Q-Tip] Complimentary it be the theif of Poetry I got a humdinger comin hook line and sinker the TIMBO hits with the prints underground TIMBO's on the toes, i like the way it's goin down down like the lady of the evenin when it goes in Toots just beleive the sin cuz Queens is the county, Jamaica is the place Take off your boots cuz you can't run the race [Chorus]: (Oh My God(14)) |
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chorus Dove from De La Soul:
We on Award Tour with Muhammad my man Goin each and every place with the mic in their hand New York, NJ, N.C., VA We on Award Tour with Muhammad my man Goin each and every place with the mic in their hand Oaktown, L.A., San Fran, St. John Q-Tip: People give your ears so I be sublime It's enjoyable to know you and the concubine Niggaz, take off your coats ladies, act liike gems Sit down, Indian style, as we recite these hymns See, lyrically I'm Mario Andretti on the mo-mo Luticrous, we speedy, or infectious with the slow-mo Heard me in the eighties, J Beez on the promo On my never endin quest to get the paper on the caper But now, let me take it to the Queens side I'm takin it to Brooklyn side All the residential Questers to invade the way Hold up a second son, cuz we almost there You can be a black man and lose all your soul You can be white and blue but don't crap the roll See my shit is universal, if you got knowledge and dolo Of delf for self, see there's no one else Who can drop it on the angle, acute at that So, do that, do that, do do that that that(come on) Do that, do that, do do that that that(OK) Do that, do that, do do that that that I'm buggin out, so let me get back cuz I'm wettin niggaz So run and tell the others cuz we are the brothas I learned how to build mics in my workshop class So give me this award, and let's not make it the last chorus: We on Award Tour with Muhammad my man Goin each and every place with the mic in their hand Chinatown, Spokane, London, Tokyo We on Award Tour with Muhammad my man Goin each and every place with the mic in their hand Houston, Delaware, DC, Dallas Phife: Back in '89, I simply slid into place Buddy, buddy, buddy all up in your face A lot of kids was bustin rhymes but they had no taste Some said Quest was wack, but now is that the case I have a quest to have the mic in my hand Without that, it's like Kryptonite and Superman So Shaheed come in with the sugar cuts Phife Dawg's my name, but on stage, call me Dynomutt When was the last time you heard the Phifer sloppy Lyrics anonymous, you'll never hear me copy Top notch baby, never comin less Sky's the limit, you gots to believe up in Quest Sit back , relax, get up out the path If not that, here's the dancefloor, come move that ass Non-believers, you can the steps I roll with Shaheed and the brotha Abstract Niggaz know the time when the Quest is in the jam I never let a statue tell me how nice I am Comin with more hits than the Braves and the Yankees Livin mad phat like an over sized Bam-bi The wackest crews try to dis, it makes me laugh When my track record's longer than a DC-20 aircraft So, next time that you think you want somethin here Make somethin deffer, take that garbage to St. Elsewhere chorus: We on Award Tour with Muhammad my man Goin each and every place with the mic in their hand S.C., Maryland, New Orleans, Motown We on Award Tour with Muhammad my man Goin each and every place with the mic in their hand Chinatown, Spokane, London, Tokyo We on Award Tour with Muhammad my man Goin each and every place with the mic in their hand Houston, Delaware, DC, Dallas We on Award Tour with Muhammad my man Goin each and every place with the mic in their hand New York, NJ, N.C., VA |
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[Q-Tip]
Can I kick it? (Yes, you can!) *7X* Well, I'm gone (Go on then!) Can I kick it? To all the people who can Quest like A Tribe does Before this, did you really know what live was? Comprehend to the track, for it's why cuz Gettin measures on the tip of the vibers Rock and roll to the beat of the funk fuzz Wipe your feet really good on the rhythm rug If you feel the urge to freak, do the jitterbug Come and spread your arms if you really need a hug Afrocentric living is a big shrug A life filled with *HORN* that's what I love A lower plateau is what we're above If you diss us, we won't even think of Will Nipper the doggy give a big shove? This rhythm really fits like a snug glove Like a box of positives is a plus, love As the Tribe flies high like a dove [Phife Dawg] Can I kick it? (Yes, you can!) *7X* Well, I'm gone (Go on then!) Can I kick it? To my Tribe that flows in layers Right now, Phife is a poem sayer At times, I'm a studio conveyor Mr. Dinkins, would you please be my mayor? You'll be doing us a really big favor Boy this track really has a lot of flavor When it comes to rhythms, Quest is your savior Follow us for the funky behavior Make a note on the rhythm we gave ya Feel free, drop your pants, check your ha-ir Do you like the garments that we wear? I instruct you to be the obeyer A rhythm recipe that you'll savor Doesn't matter if you're minor or major Yes, the Tribe of the game, rhythm player As you inhale like a breath of fresh air |
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Relax yourself girl, please set-tle down (4X) Verse One: Q-Tip, Phife Dawg Honey, check it out, you got me mesmerized With your black hair and fat-ass thighs Street poetry is my everyday But yo, I gotta stop when you trot my way If I was workin at the club you would not pay Aiyyo, my man Phife, dig it, he got somthin to say I like em brown, yellow, Puero Rican or Hatian Name is Phife Dawg from the Zulu Nation Told you in the jam that We Can Get Down Now let's Knock the Boots like the group H-Town You got BBD all on your bedroom wall But I'm Above the Rim and this is how I ball A pretty little somethin on the New York street This is how I represent over this here beat Talkin bout you Yo, I took you out But sex was on my mind for the whole damn route My mind was in a frenzy and a horny state But I couldn't drop dimes cause *you couldn? relate* Chorus Verse Two: Q-Tip, Phife Dawg Stretch out your legs, let me make you bawl Drive you insane, drive you up the wall Starin at your dome-piece, very strong Stronger than cries, stronger than Teflon Take you on the ave and you buy me links Now I wanna pound the putang until it stinks You can be my mama and I'll be your boy Original rude boy, never am I coy You can be a shorty in my ill convoy Not to come across as a thug or a hood But hon, you got the goods, like Madeline Woods By the way, my name's Malik The Five-Foot Freak Let's say we get together by the end of the week She simply said, "No," labelled me a hoe I said, "How you figure?" "My friends told me so." I hate when silly groupies wanna run they yap Word to God, hon, I don't get down like that I'll have you weak in the knees that you could hardly speak Or we could do like Uncle L and swing an ep in my jeep Keep it in the down, yo, we keep it discrete See, I'm not the type to kid to have my biz in the streets If my mom don? approve, then I'll just elope Let me sink the little man from inside the boat Let me hit it from the back, girl I won't catch a hernia Bust off on your couch, now you got semen's furniture Shaheed, Phife and the Extra P Stacy, ? DJ and my man L.G. They know the Abstract is really soul on ice The character is of men, never ever of mice Shorty let me tell you about my only vice It has to do with lots of lovin and *it ain't nuthin nice* Chorus |
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My mother went away for a month-long trip
Her and some friends on an ocean-liner ship She made a big mistake by leaving me home I had to roam so I picked up the phone Dialed Ali up to see what was going down Told him I pick him up so we could drive around Took the Dodge Dart, a '74 My mother left a yard but I needed one more Shaheed had me covered with a hundred greenbacks So we left Brooklyn and we made big tracks drove down the Belt, got on the Conduit Came to a toll, we paid and went through it Had no destination, we was on a quest Ali laid in the back so he could get rest Drove down the road for two-days-and-a-half The sun had just risen on a dusty path Just then a figure had caught my eye A man with a sombrero who was four feet high I pulled over to ask were we was at His index finger he tipped up his hat "El Segundo," he said, "my name is Pedro If you need directions, I'll tell you pronto" Needed civilization, some sort of reservation He said a mile south, there's a fast food station Thanks, senor, as I start up the motor Ali said, "Damn, Tip, why you drive so far for?" (Well describe to me what the wallet looks like) Anyway a gas station we passed We got gas and went on to get grub It was a nice little pub in the middle of nowhere Anywhere would have been better I ordered enchiladas and I ate 'em Ali had the fruit punch When we finished we thought for ways to get back I had a hunch Ali said, "Pay for lunch" So I did it Pulled out the wallet and I saw this wicked beautiful lady She was a waitress there Put the wallet down and stared and stared To put me back into reality, here's Shaheed: "Yo, Tip, man, you got what you need?" I checked for keys and started to step What do you know, my wallet I forget Yo, it was a brown wallet, it had props numbers Had my jimmy hats I got to get it man Lord, have mercy The heat got hotter, Ali stars to curse me I fell bad but he makes me feel badder Chit-chit-chatter, car stars to scatter Breaking on out, we was Northeast bound Jettin' on down at the seepd of sound Three days coming and three more going We get back and there was no slack 490 Madison, we're here, Sha He said, "All right, Tip, see you tomorrow" Thinking about the past week, the last week Hands go in my pocket, I can't speak Hopped in the car and torpe'ed to the shack Of Shaheed, "We gotta go back" when he said "Why?" I said, "We gotta go 'Cause I left my wallet in El Segundo" Yeah, I left my wallet in El Segundo Left my wallet in El Segundo Left my wallet in El Segundo I gotta get, I got-got ta get it |
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Goin on and on to the rhythmic variation Wakin in the morning I still represent the nation When I speak of nation please don't make the deviation Rebels of the party who create the jump sensation Mind is a pit of different information Microphone is on so of course communication Bogle at the party then you got the bogle-ation Decaptatin foes yo as if my name was Jason (c'mon) Makin all the fellas at the party lose composure Hook up the beat with the mic and it's over (original, uh!) A Tribe Called Quest we on the run for whatever Trials and tribulations that we have to endeavor Brothers know my steelo it's a letter to the better If you see a shorty that you like, then you sweat her Silly with the microphone, in other words I'm loco Six foot zero with my height, complexion cocoa Representin on the mic it seems to be my daily I can do a split and turn around like Alvin Ailey But when it comes to days like this I got lyrics to go (I got lyrics to go) It's like that y'all, c'mon y'all Lyrics to go It's like that y'all, c'mon y'all (Lyrics to go) It's like that [Phife Dawg] I know it's been two years but see the Tribe was never fallin Would have tried for singin but that stuff was not my callin The mic is in effect so you know I'm never stallin Walkin through the door and all them suckers started haulin Talk a lot of trash but no one can seem to beat it Pull out your microphone and watch the Phifer make you eat it The MC's they get jealy when the girly's on my belly Kick a slow dance like my brother R. Kelly (bust a rhyme) Today's a hip-hop draft will I be top-seeded? (uhh) Worked too frickin hard while all the rest were gettin weeded Steady kickin styles so I can reach that other level (uh) Don't worry about gettin gassed I push the pedal to the metal Always wanted this cause it surely beats a scramble (right) I'm Jordan with the mic, huh, wanna gamble? (mmm) This I dedicate to all the honiest that be bogle-in Cause at the end of the night y'know Malik will have his Trojans But when it comes to nights like this I got lyrics to go Check it out y'all (Lyrics to go) It's like that y'all Lyrics to go Check it out y'all (Lyrics to go) It's like that y'all Lyrics to go Check it out y'all (Lyrics to go) It's like that y'all Lyrics to go Check it out y'all (Lyrics to go) It's like that y'all It's like that y'all Check it out y'all It's like that y'all Check it out y'all It's like that y'all Check it out here we go! [Q-Tip] Please proceed with caution cause the lyricist is fatal I can kick your little monkey ass like Kato (yes dread, uhh) Formulate your rhymes like a child forms Play-Doh (right) Calm and serene like the study was tayo Poetry machine with correct mechanisms Immune to disease I defeat organisms that are waitin in my path, I overstep the critters Give your ass the willies and your moms'll get the jitters (uh) Winners turn to losers, losers are forgotten Tangle in my fore with, hopes that I stop rockin Never will that happen only if it is permitted (uhh) Wait... I think somebody shitted (c'mon) I guess that will be me cause I'm the only one MCin I go for what I know doin a show for human beings Always try to lead yo never will I follow Blowin up the spot like Fred did to Rollo And when it comes to days like this, I got lyrics to go Check it out y'all (Lyrics to go) It's like that y'all I got lyrics to go Everybody (I got lyrics to go) Ah c'mon now I got lyrics to go Ah check it out y'all (I got lyrics to go) It's like that now I got lyrics to go Everybody (I got lyrics to go) Ah c'mon now I got lyrics to go Check it out y'all (I got lyrics to go) It's like that now I got lyrics to go C'mon y'all (I got lyrics to go) Everybody I got lyrics to go It's like that y'all (I got lyrics to go) Check it out now I got lyrics to go Ah c'mon y'all (I got lyrics to go) Everybody I got lyrics to go It's like that y'all (I got lyrics to go) Check it out now I got lyrics to go It's like that y'all (I got lyrics to go) Every-bo-ty I got lyrics to go It's like that y'all (I got lyrics to go) Ah check it out now It's like that y'all Check it now It's like that y'all Check it now It goes... uhh |
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Here we go yo, here we go yo
So what so what so what's the scenario Here we go yo, here we go yo So what so what so what's the scenario (Phife Dawg) Aiyyo Bo knows this (what?) and Bo knows that (what?) But Bo don't know jack, cause Bo can't rap Well whaddya know, the Di-Dawg, is first up to bat No batteries included, and no strings attached No holds barred, no time for move fakin Gots to get the loot so I can bring home the bacon Brothers front, they say the Tribe can't flow But we've been known to do the impossible like Broadway Joe so Sleep if you want, my crew will help you get your Z's troop But here's the real scoop I'm all that and then some, short dark and handsome Bust a nut inside your eye, to show you where I come from I'm vexed, fumin, I've had it up to here My days of payin dues are over, acknowledge me as in there (YEAH) Head for the border, go get a taco I'll be wreckin from the jump street, meaning from the get-go Sit back relax and let yourself go Don't sweat what you heard, but act like you know (Charlie Brown) Yes yes y'all (yes y'all!) Who got the vibe? It's the Tribe y'all (Tribe y'all!) Real live y'all (live y'all!) Inside outside come around... (who's that??) Browwwwwwwwn Some may, I say, call me Charlie The word is the herb and I'm deep like Bob Marley Layback on the payback, (evolve rotate the gates?) CONTACT! Can I get a hit? (HIT!) Boom bip with a brother named Tip and we're ready to flip East coast stompin, rippin and rompin New York, North Cak-a-laka, and Compton Checka-checka-check it out! The loops for the troops, more bounce to the ounce And wow how now wow how now Brown cow We're ill till the skill gets down For the flex, next, it's the textbook old to the new but the rest are doo-doo From radio, to the video, to Arsenio Tell me! Yo, what's the scenario (Dinco D) (True blue!) Scooby Doo, whoopie doo Scenario's ready yo, always rates more than four Scores for the snores that's lovin dance floors Now I go for mine, (shades of G sure?) Ship-shape plus Grape Apes to play tapes Papes make grapes great for the waist I'm an L-AH, an E-ADER, simply just a leader Bass in his face means peace see ya later Later? (LATER!) Later alligator Pop blows the weasel and my Earth the inflater So yo the D what the O, incorporated I-N-C into a flow Funk flipped flat back first this foul fight fight fight Laugh yo how's that sound (ohhhhhh!) (Q-Tip) It's the leader Quest mission and we got the goods here (here!) Never on the left cause my right's my good ear (ear!) I could give a damn about a ill subliminal Stay away from crime cause so ain't no CRIMINAL I love my young nation, groovy sensation No time for hibernation, only elation Don't ever try to test, yo whattup little kid? Yo Mr. Busta Rhymes, tell him what I did (Busta Rhymes) I heard you rushed and rushed, AND ATTACKED Then baby puked then you had TO SMACK Causin rambunction, throughout the sphere Raise the levels of the boom, inside the ear (Q-Tip) You know I did it So don't violate or you get violated The hip-hop sound is well agitated Won't ever waste no time on the played out ego So here's Busta Rhymes with the scenario (Busta Rhymes) Watch, as I combine all the juice from the mind Heel up, reel up, bring it back, come rewind Powerful impact BOOM! from the cannon Not braggin, try to read my mind just imagine Vo-cab-u-lary's necessary When diggin into my library Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Eating ayea toadstool like the one Peter Tosh-a Uh, uh uhh, alone with the track man Uh, pardon me, uhh, as I come back As I did it yo I heard you beg your pardon When I travel to the Sun I roll with the squadron RRRRRROAW RRRRRRROAW like a dungeon dragon Change your little drawers cause your pants are saggin Try to step to this, I will, fits you in a turban And had you smellin right, like some old stale urine Checkady-choco, the chocolate chicken The rear cock diesel, for chicks they were kickin Yo, bustin out before the Busta bust a nut the rhyme the rhythm is in sync (UHH!) the rhymes are on time (TIME!) Rippin up this dance just like a radio Observe the vibe and check out the scenario!! *chorus starts* Yeah, my man motherfucker! Chorus |
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Check my style out
Life situations are the one I speak about It seems cats now-a-days we gettin' introduced to courage Don't get discouraged 'cause my words will threw her like flourish we got the bounty we from the queen's county overlookin' things like a Rushmore Mounty And got no other choice except to get a little love We rise above We be fittin' like a glove Thr pain in my heart is getting dosed by joy We have no other boy but to bring the B-boy There's nothin' on this erb that can end still fear The locomive, puttin' my thing in gear I only have the fear of guard and that's aqua You need binaca Your trap is blazing like blanca I got the lethal you couldn't put a match to it Let me know yo we could do it like Stu it Mind over matter action is needed When the big one not to be super seeded Responsibility is somethin' I can't deny The illegallies is Narcist reply Most cats scrambled to do 'cause they want to But on the kick rising in the past on in prompt to My lily's hot like two links in the skillet A room filled with speakers one stage, watch me kill it Now we should resort from the cradle to the grave Round and opposition twisted like Super Dave You be looking, Bub, just like Uncle Jesse Don't make the scene messy 'Cause it'll jump that's word Aunt Betsy Profound sentences to pure lyric dems Some of my friends be like a people with stems Folks be on the chase for this cheddar Thinkin' it makes your life better But it can make you ass out And when I'm at a show chicks never pass out We got the noise to make the whole mash out A Tribe Called Quest make the party go down Plus w |
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Yo, microphone check one two what is this The five foot assassin with the ruffneck business I float like gravity, never had a cavity Got more rhymes than the Winans got family No need to sweat Arsenio to gain some type of fame No shame in my game cause I'll always be the same Styles upon styles upon styles is what I have You wanna diss the Phifer but you still don't know the half I sport New Balance sneakers to avoid a narrow path Messin round with this you catch ?the sizin of em? I never half step cause I'm not a half stepper Drink a lot of soda so they call me Dr. Pepper Refuse to com-pete with BS competition Your name ain't Special Ed so won't you Seckle With the Mission I never walk the streets, think it's all about me Even though deep in my heart, it really could be I just try my best to like go all out Some might even say yo shorty black you're buggin' out [Q-Tip] Uhhh, uhhh, uhhh, uh! Zulu Nation, brothers that's creation Minds get flooded, ejaculation right on the two inch tape The Abstract poet incognito, runsss the cape Not the best not the worst and occasionally I curse to get my point across, so bust, the floss As I go in betweeen, the grit and the dirt Listen to the mission listen Miss as I do work, umm as I crack the, monotone Children of the jazz so, get your own Smokin R |
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Rough, rough, rugged Tough like a nugget Listen to the Abstract Poetic, don't snub it The Midnight Marauder is the hype beat arranger Don't front on the lyrics or the two cuz it's danger Hook you like a junkie, you'll flip like a monkey To the openness of the rhythm, so proceed because I'm funky I get down, down like a fly hooker's panties Make you catch a spirit and motivate a fanny I be the fly poet, rappers, they get jelly Upset when I rock, cuz yo, they beats is smelly See, I got it goin on like a Forbes tax return Listenin to these lyrics when it's hot will make it burn Baby burn, baby burn, up into the heavens The skies up above, the one you think of Is the highly regarded, hell of the people Your mic and my mic? Come on, yo, no equal So if ya wanna do it to yourself That is to mess around with the jazz, then just blame yourself Cuz you made your bed, so now you lay in it That's your (shit) on the floor, then go and play in it I refuse to catch a 'L' in a battle Cuz yo, I got the jazz and I'll whup a rapper's (ass) Into little next to nuthin Test me if I'm frontin I'm passin flyin colors cuz yo... Chorus (Q-Tip): Who got the jazz? (We've got the jazz) (7X) We've got the jazz Come on Come on, Phife Phife: No need for introductions cuz you know who I be (the Phife Dawg) Yep, the one who loves to slaugher MCs I got style, grace and razamatazz I'm like my girl Patrice Rushen, yo I add pizazz, now Most people remember Phife from the Phife like smoothness But now it's time to hit you with roughneck rudeness I'm st |
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Phife: Brothas know the flavs when the Quest gets loose Slammin sucka fuckas like the wrestler Zeus Crazier than Tupac in that flick called Juice Cock is longer than the hat worn by Dr. Seuss Love a girl in Daisy Dukes like them kids called Deuce Gets paid to sex the hoochie like my main man Luke Control the mic like Denzel on the girls Wack MCs be on the nuts like Rocket J. Squirrel The worst thing in the world is a sucka MC Favorite rap group in the world is EPMD Can't forget the De La, the two originality And if I ever went solo, my favorite MC would be me Phife Dawg up in the house, I give a shout out to Snoopy Peace to all the Questers, to hell with the groupies Like um, Ralph up to Potsie, Brooklyn to Dodger Laverne to Shirley, Rerun to Roger Ren to the Stimpy, Laurel to Hardy Q-Tip and Phifer, they mashed up the party Kick the rhymes and more rhymes Kick the beats and more beats We'll have you scratchin in your head, like trying all techniques For those who wanna oppose, just take a stand But for now, just shut your shit and clap your hands chorus: Q-Tip: You just wanna dance man, then clap your hands If you venture up the wrong road, then the circumstance... Will be crucial, I got hundreds of rhymes that'll suit you So listen The Abstract intuition is very very worthy I can feel ya out from Russia to Jersey Can't understand, the underground, it gets deep The low, the Nikes, the links, the jeeps The women, the lingo and all the other goods Peace to the hoods, that keep my shit on play Please don't do the mute when you hear me on the juke Brothas know my angle, it's the Star-Spangled black banner Hook up the beats at the funk manner If want a roll, then dough I be rakin The scope is on the world, cuz it's mine for the takin You know I'm gonna do it My shit is rock solid, but it flows like fluid Chemists get confused of my ill composition This is the third of the new Tribe addition MCs be swingin, but alot of them be missin So shut your bloodclot and listen Cuz I'm bringin you the ill rendition I'd like to send this out to the L.E.S. Gotta alot of rhythm and style and finesse Come here love, hot sex on a plat And when your done with that then clap Chorus(until end) |
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All we want in this life Is peace, prosperity and a little paper Objects that seem greater But i'm sure well over come when we illin on a drum (repeat 2x) Verse one: q-tip We in a world that places heavy emphasis on money synthesis Y'all can be my witnesses That a fella fascination with money has grown To the point that he will shit on his own We got to have it y'all, its not a spike lee cinematic A piece of paper makin niggaz get dramatic But the money doesnt come automatic Gotta motivate ourselves to go and grab it We got to get it yall, in an orderly fashion Some cats go about it with too much passion We got to mediate our greedy levels Cuz the lust of currency can have us sleepin with the devil Gotta recognize it, realize the power That this little ma-huckin piece of paper will devour Man can be greater than the thing he creates See, i'ma do my thing and see how much i can scrape Yo i'd rather have respect than money, no doubt But listen to me y'all, i want the mass amount That the sesame street dracula cant count So that i can give my people when that thing surmounts To higher levels.. of being.. so when i'm mc-ing I hope to see you there steady g-ing (say word) But the only way we can truly reach that goal Is finding true inner peace and prospering souls It's like that Chorus Verse two: phife Here comes your royal highness, one of queens finest Believe me, honest, you know you can't stop it Come on son, never leave your mic round me True mc for real ask my man shaheed Strictly focused on what im in this rap game for Not for fame and screwing every whore after whore With all that aids stuff going round Tell me how that sound Rather hit the studio and hear some beats that pound Now, dont get me wrong i love honeys galore But see hip-hop's my bread butter Cause that's what i get paid for See this is what i wanted Allah helped me to get it And if the beat is wicked You know malik will rip it From the bottom of my heart Thats where the love starts The love for breakdancing My love for the art And with this love i do hip-hop from the soul A real mc, who never sweats how many copies are sold Yeah i want to go gold, platinum, uh-huh etceteras But why put out some wackness when no one will respect ya Im staying true nuff respect to those that paved the way From bambaata down to shah; that be my dj With out my peeps i dont know how the hell id make it, word Sometimes i feel that my career is headed for the curb One love for the lendin hand and giving all your help Believing in me when i didnt believe in my own self The abstract with whom im always making rugged tunes Kid hood restin in heaven, i hope to see you soon I keep things hot and this year they're even hotter Big mu and shah, one day i'll take my shahada Out |
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