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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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[q-tip]
fool - defined in webster's open up the book, read it read it turn the page, see what it says read it to me will you please (one who acts dope ??? so what does it mean to me?) that's you (how's that?) cos of the way you act (huhhh?!?!) standin on the corner sellin girbauds (what you talkin bout?) scalin your friends and also your foes what's the matter wit'cha boy? (ain't nuttin wrong with me, mother...) you big galoot (huh?), you nincompoop (what?) what's wrong wit you? you can't compute (yes sure i can compute) don't fix your lips to tell me you can standin on the poley playin pusher man what you got to do with yourself? (oh what?) can't you be somebody else? (no) look at you described to a tee (huh) you're a fool of many in society i know some more, i shall go on and continue in the song, fooled the fool "fool" - scratched by ali shaheed (man i don't know what you're talkin bout callin me a fool i've been out here for twentysome odd years doin my thing, i ain't no fool man you crazy or something? i'm gonna stick this, right up your...) [q-tip] the girl i talked to she's sort of neurotic (yeah) her crazy ex-boyfriend is really psychotic (uh-huh) scares the girl by threatenin her life (word) says "girl, you're dead if you're not my wife" (oh man) beats in her public, beats her in private (yes) tried it 'round me, "almost" won't buy it (what you mean?) said "forget him, don't you know he's a loser" who would love a woman turn around and abuse her (ohh) only a fool as described by the tribe here's another one who's on the fool vibe (okay) gonna make it shor |
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Verse 1: Q-Tip
Brother, brother, brother, Lucien, you're like no other. Listen very close 'cause I don't like to boast. Instead, I'll tell the tale of a French who prevailed Through the Mr. Crazy Rabbits who were always on his tail. ? on sale, your rumour starts to wail. Get caught with stolen goods and you will go to jail. If you go to jail, then who will pay the bail? They'll put you back to France on a ship with a sail. Escargot, Lucien, you eat snails. (Hey yo Tip, what's wrong with snails?) From the Zulu nation, from a town called Paris, Came to America to find liberty. Instead of finding pleasure, all you found was misery, But listen, Lucien, you have a friend in me. Oh, luck luck will drive you butt baddy. Next time you get some wheels, make it a Caddy. In terms of doing good, I know you wish you really could, But listen, brother man, I really think you can. Succeed with the breed of the brothers on your back. It's the creme de la creme, and you can bounce with that. It'll take a minute, ?rice?, so take my advice. Trust in us, and thus you trust in your life. Lucine, Lucien, Lucien, Lucien. You should know! Verse 2: Q-Tip Are you ready, Lu? This one is for you, Comin' from a true-blue, fits like a shoe. ? or "Commenet-allez-vous"? Lucien, I'll leave it up to you. Voulez vous (vous). Endez vous (vous). Coo-coo (coo). Les poo-poo (poo) Watch that lass, gonna backlash fast. Can you get a grip on the crackhead dip? Sold you a paper bag, guess he saw you comin', VCR from a neck-bone bummin', $10 brother, he was hummin' and strummin', Only had 20, he was livin' like ya slummin', Gave him the money, well, I thought that was somethin', Lookin' like a kid who was lost in crumbin'. Don't worry about a thing, I won't get specific. This is a song that is long and prolific. Think of the stuff that I said if you can. Figure it out, compute, understnad. No problemo, I'll help you with your demo If you go to the store for me. Lucien, I'm just kiddin'. You should know! Verse 3: Q-Tip You gotta get a grip on the missions you'll be takin', Not so much the mission, but you got crazy ignition. Sure, the sugar-babies wanna give you a chance With the French "savoir faire" and the sexy dance, But is she really fly, or is she a guy? I won't ask why, 'cause I know that you try. You try too hard, is that the answer to the riddle? Instead of doin' so much, why don't you do just a little? Boy, what a cad, I guess we shouldn't treat him bad. In fact, it would be nice if we understood him like A case of positionin' the feet in the shoes, Sympathetic reason in the case of the blues. Lucien is blue, even though he's really brown. I had to make the sound, his life is too profound. On the up-and-up, he's somethin' like a little pup, Young and naive, it's hard to believe. As long as you're strong, you can quest with the questers, Jolly like a jumping bean or a jester. Lucien, Lucien, Lucien, Lucien. You should know! |
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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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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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Whatever happened to - twin sets
Whatever happened to - hi-fi Whatever happened to - TV sex Whatever happened to - you and I Your passion is a product (Of) highlight and detail That come hither look Bonus offer retail Whatever happened to - pick-up trucks Whatever happened to - yellow pages Whatever happened to - burning books Whatever happened to - new ages Your emotions are cheap Cut price cash and carry Your heart on your sleeve For any Tom, Dick or Harry Your love is a cashed-in cheque Oh oh that's the way of all flesh Whatever happened to - Chairman Mao Whatever happened to - God above Whatever happened to - the cow Whatever happened to - plug-in love Your pasteurised life so fit for consumption Ooooo those undressing eyes so strictly commercial Your love is a cashed-in cheque Oh oh that's the way of all flesh All flesh All flesh |
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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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Verse One: Phife Dawg
1988 Senior Year, Garvey High Where all the guys were corny but the girls were mad fly Loungin with the Tipster, Coolin with Sha Scopin out the honeys - they know who they are I was the b-ball playin fly rhyme sayin Fly girl gettin but never was I sweatin Cause when it came to honeys I would go on a stroll Until I met my match - her name was Flo Yeah - I messed around with the one called Flo All the troopers round the way used to call her a ho But deep down in my heart I knew that Flo was good to go Cause I thought it was me - like Bell Biv Devoe But little did I know that she was playin' with my mind The only thing I learned is, good girls are hard to find I feel like Heavy D I need somebody for me Not someone who's mind is blank and tryin' to juice me for my bank Swingin' with my main man Lucky behind my back What type of crap is that - yo, hows about a smack? Word life, I can't front - thought I was all that But now it seems, I met my match Was a stone cold lover, you couldn't tell me jack Settlin' down with one girl, wasn't tryin' to hear that I had Tonya, Tamika, Sharon, Karen Tina, Stacy, Julie, Tracy Used ta love 'em, leave 'em, skeeze 'em, tease 'em Find 'em, lose 'em - also abuse 'em My whole attitude was new day, next hon And believe it or not, they all got done Well here comes Flo, with the crazy whip appeal And I'm all true man, like Alexander O'Neal Is this really love, then again, how would I know After all this time tryin' to be a superhoe She finally played me, but yo, I'd find another Cause I got the crazy game and yo, I'm smooth like butter Chorus: Q-Tip Butter, like butter baby . . . [repeat 2X] Not no Parkay, not no margarine, Strickly butter baby, strictly butter Verse Two: Phife Dawg I remember when, Girls were goodie two shoes, but now they turned to freaks Allofasudden "We love you Phife" - ease of ho, my name's Malik Phife this, Phife that, where you goin', where you at These girls don't know me from jack, yet I feel like the Mack You didn't want me then, so hon, don't want me now Here, Here - take the towel, wipe off your brow And take the Ccontact out your eye, you're far from lookin' fly You get an E for effort, and T for nice try Now tell me what's the reason, for dyin' your hair Slum village gold still danglin in your ear You barely have a neck but still sportin' a rope Four-finger ring just so Phifer can scope You looked in the mirror, didn't know what to do Yesterday your eyes were brown but today they are blue Your whole appearance is a lie and it could never be true And if you really loved yourself then you would try and be you If your hair and eyes were real, I wouldn't have dissed ya But since it was bought, I had to dismiss ya If you can't achieve it, then why not try and weave it If you can't extend it then you might as well suspend it If you can't braid it, best thing to do is fade it I asked who did your hair and you tell me "Diane made it" If you were you and just you, talk to you, maybe But I can't stand, no bionic lady Tryin' hard to look fly, but yo, you're lookin' dumber If I wanted someone like you I woulda swung with Jamie Summers You wanna be treated right, see Father MC Or check Ralph Tresvant, for sens-a-tiv-i-ty See I am not the one, I got more game than Parker Brothers Phife Dog is on the mic and I'm smooth like Butter . . . |
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