 |
|
4:22 | 
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Midnight Marauders (1993)
Went to carvel to get a milk shake This honey ripped me off of my loot case The car oh yeah there's money in my jacket Somebody broke into my ride and cold macked it Yo tip i tell you man the devil's trying it But i'm goin to stay strong cause i ain't bying it Tonight i'm taking sherry out I don't have jack to wear You know i've got to look dipped in the freshest gear Cool i found something so i ironed it I think i caught up on the phone Oh shit i'm trying it Will someone tell me what did i do to deserve this? I think i'll pull out my super ? and serve this My little brother wants barney, cool i'm getting it Took him down to kay-bee, they ain't sellin it Here we go with the crying, yo he's throwing fits My blood pressure blowing up, i can't take this shit Finally got what he wanted now he's good to go Again the robers smashed, were's my radio? One time the car was in the shop i had to borrow see... They had no mercy on the car oh you he'll kill me Where the hell can nicki be? i'm goin to smack her up I got the tickets for the knicks and she cold stood me up I need to hit a hunny off yo drill pas me the phone Pulled out my hooker hoes, oh yo sheela's home Steady smiling like a mother yo i'm wrecked to bone Went down on hun, she's in the red zone Stressed out more than one could ever be Forever trying to clear the sample for my new lp With all these trials and tribulations yo i've been affected And to top it off, starks got ejected Refrain Verse two: phife dawg Just last week my girl was stressing me Now her best friend be underssing me Well i was lovin her by the moon lit Now i'm tricking on her like kinte' Bought a bag of izm from the smoke shop Walking towards the car, here come the damn cops Now i'm station bound for the thai sticks I bought it for my man, i don't believe this shit Coach sat me down from the ball team Cause i was breakin niggaz on the inseams Some niggas cross town was trying to stick me All i had was shorts, a dollar fifty Picked up this gir in the hoopty Just because of her rhymes she tried to soup me Pay for this and pay for that loot for nails and hair Who the hell do you think i am, mr. belvedere? Go and get a bloddy job then can we look cute Even if you get me boots, you'll neva see my loot She wasn't even all of that just anothe hooker Took the journey that ass way, quick like chucky booker Sometimes you got put the hoes in their freakin place Just move from in front me with your botty face! My man mohammed in the house, huh [come on, come on] Zulu nation in the house, huh [come on, come on] Sub rock is in the house, huh [come on, come on] My man skeff is in the house, huh [come on, come on] Jarobi white is in the house, huh [come on, come on] Bob power in the house, huh [come on, come on] My man eric in the house, huh [come on, come on] My man lytcha in the house, huh [come on, come on] [help me, help me, help me, help me, help me, help me........muhammad!!] |
|||||
 |
|
- | 
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - People'S Instinctive Travels And The Parths Of Rhythm (1997) | |||||
|
|
3:46 |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Midnight Marauders (1993)
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 |
|||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000)
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 |
|||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003)
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 |
|||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Beats Rhymes And Life (2001)
Phife:
The mad man malik makes mcs run for milk of magnesia Maybe that'll ease ya Master of this microphone mackin, master as in great I'll have your brain goin in circles as my style tends to ovulate I'm makin moves, never movies, that's why y'all mcs lose me Retrace, won't, so your stubborn like groupies Kid, you know my flava, tear this whole jam apart Fuck around and have your heart, like jordan had starks While you playin hokey pokey, there's no time to be dokey Cuz i come out to play every night like charles oakley Dissin around with wack rhymin You lose your grip from chalk climbin Let me take this time to say r.i.p. to phyllis hyman Who never got the props that she damn well deserved But see me, you don't wanna see me, cuz all mcs are gettin served The nerve, for you to even step to the phifer I'll bumrush your set and crush your whole cypher Reserve, a spot for me in hip hop's hall of fame Cuz rappin ain't no game, big up your head and maintain Yeah, queens forever in this piece crushin any beef Ain't nuthin sweet, the bakery's across the fuckin street Phife dawg, swingin it back and forth just like aaliyah Makin moves on your heart like that trick tamia No doubt about it, i love hip hop to death But yo tip, bring in the chorus cuz i'm losin my breath Consequence: A, yo, you know the deal when the diggy dawg is on the scene We got the fiend bumpin straight from the borough queens You know the deal when the diggy dawg is on the scene We got the fiend bumpin straight from the borough queens You know the deal when the diggy dawg is on the scene You know the deal, ha, you know the deal Phife: Big up pop duke, that's where i caught my athleticism My mama, no doubt, that's where i got my lyricism My nana, that's where i got my spiritualism As for tip and shah, they made me stop from smokin izm Now, when i'm with some cheese, i be lettin off gism Writin rhymes since daddy kane and biz mark was on prism I gotta brave heart like the one named shirley chisholm As for my late twin, boy, i wish i was with him Got the lightro in the back talkin bout (come on, get him) And when it comes to rhymes, no doubt, i flip em Sucka mc in my path, hey main, i say we ship him Money please, your rhymes are wack, say word, this geek is trippin Just because my name is phife, my man, i'm never slippin I got the type of flave to have your ass straight bitchin For those who act cute, see i got them on mute Have you walkin through your projects in your birthday suit Cuz your style is off loot, so i played him like a flute If youse a sucka mc, then it's you i rebuke My style is, everday all day, similar to water Crushin mcs as if my name was sargent slaughter Keep shit hotter...than a sauna Or better yet, the hormones on your christian daughter Hey, i tried to warn her My sounds the type to kill, like the grill on lauryn hill So all ya sucka mcs, y'all best go chill Bout to go to union square so i can see my care bear Singin good stuff in my ear, runnin fingers through my hair Represent the zulu nation with illy rap creations Just keep shit hotter than death row-bad boy confrontations Chillin with fudge love because he represents the haitians Ya naw'mean Word up I just wanna big up everybody for supportin a tribe called quest Through the years This be the fourth lp, you know what i'm sayin? Tip, shaheed and phife, beats, rhymes and life Featuring my man, you know what i'm sayin, consequence 192 is the area where we represent, for the ladies and gents, ha ha You know what i'm sayin? big up shaheed muhammad, that's my man Christine, you know what i'm sayin, word life (fading out) The abstract poetic, rockin this track Bouncin it all over the place, in your face You know what i'm sayin? my man lightro... |
|||||
 |
|
4:39 |
|
||
| from Tribeca - Dragon Down (2004) | |||||
|
|
3:53 |
|
||
| from Tribeca - Dragon Down (2004) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - People'S Instinctive Travels And The Parths Of Rhythm (1997) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000) | |||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - Revised Quest For The Seasoned Traveller (2003) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - Revised Quest For The Seasoned Traveller (2003) | |||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory (2001)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory (2001)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory (2001)
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 . . . |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory (2001)
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 . . . |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Revised Quest For The Seasoned Traveller (2003)
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 . . . |
|||||
 |
|
7:38 |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - C Sharp / Shaken Not Stirred / Solitude (2009) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - People'S Instinctive Travels And The Parths Of Rhythm (1997)
[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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000)
[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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Revised Quest For The Seasoned Traveller (2003)
[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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003)
[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 |
|||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
|
from Hip Hop - The Classics Cd (2007)
[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 |
|||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
| from 준비되면 Drop The Beat [omnibus] (2016) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory (2001) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory (2001) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - Revised Quest For The Seasoned Traveller (2003) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003) | |||||
|
|
3:17 |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Midnight Marauders (1993)
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) |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003)
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) |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Beats Rhymes And Life (2001)
Just a lil somethin-somethin about the cats who be fronting You know the Tip, he be huntin for all the goodness gracious All across the wide spaces yo, check it out, bust me down, yo Yo... yo... Verse One: Q-Tip Youse my peoples, why it got to come down to this shit Two people thinking as one so now he split Remember what I said to you, you bleed, I bleed C'mon, you know how we get down, if you're down, you need And I'm supplying, the dynamic duo, electricfying Everybody had to wet us, cuz no one will forget us Son, I testify sure as God was my guide Any petty little bullshit you did will slide Same on my end, after all, what are we, friends If niggaz ran me this, too much grounds we defend In the honor or brotherhood cuz it's all good Get on some grown man shit and let's knock on wood But now seeing you baby in this stall out position Wondering who's the dime piece that you're kissing You night as well take the jigger and take my life Cuz the dime piece you happen to be kissing is my wife Shit, I should have know not to let these crab asses Get within the circle of my girl and make passes Now you disrespected me and everything I stand for (But I'm saying though, son) Shhh, say no more Allah forgive me, my thoughts is traveling to low desires Should I turn the other cheek or react and perspire Don't wanna see myself in penitentiary attire But I caught him in the act and my emotion is dire |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - People'S Instinctive Travels And The Parths Of Rhythm (1997)
[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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000)
[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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Revised Quest For The Seasoned Traveller (2003)
[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 |
|||||
|
|
4:13 |
|
||
| from Tribeca - Dragon Down (2004) | |||||
|
|
4:04 |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Midnight Marauders (1993)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory (2001) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory (2001) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory (2001)
[Q-Tip]
Back in the days when I was a teenager Before I had status and before I had a pager You could find the Abstract listening to hip hop My pops used to say, it reminded him of be-bop I said, well daddy don't you know that things go in cycles The way that Bobby Brown is just ampin like Michael Its all expected, things are for the looking If you got the money, Quest is for the booking Come on everybody, let's get with the fly modes Still got room on the truck, load the back boom Listen to the rhymes, to get a mental picture Of this black man, black woman venture Why do I say that, cuz I gotta speak the truth man Doing what we feel for the music is the proof and Planted on the ground, the act is so together Bonafied strong, you need leverage to sever The unit, yes, the unit, yes, the unit called the jazz is We deliver it each year on the street for the beat cuz You can find it on the rack in your record store(store) If you get the record, then your thoughts are adored and appreciated Cuz we're ever so glad we made it We work hard, so we gotta thank God Dishin out the plastic, do the dance till you spastic If you dis...it gets drastic Listen to the rhymes, cuz its time to make gravy If it moves your booty, then shake, shake it baby All the way to Africa a.k.a. The Motherland (uh) Stick out the left, then I'll ask for the other hand That's the right hand, Black Man (man) Only if you was noted as my man (man) If I get the credit, then I'll think I deserve it If you fake moves, don't fix your mouth to word it Get in the zone of positivity, not negativity Cuz we gotta strive for longevity If you botch up, what's in that (ass) (what?) A pair of Nikes, size ten-and-a-half (come on, come on) Chorus: We gotta make moves Never, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on) (4X) You gotta be a winner all the time Can't fall prey to a hip hop crime With the dope raps and dope tracks for you for blocks From the fly girlies to the hardest of the rocks Musically the Quest, is on the rise We on these Excursions so you must realize Hip hop continually, about the Zulu If you don't like it, get off the Zulu tip So what could you do in the times which exist You can't fake moves on your brother or your sis But if your sis is a (bitch), brother is a jerk Leave 'em both alone and continue with your work Whatever it may be into this society Everything is fair, at least that how it seems to me You must be honest and true to the next Don't be phony and expect one not to flex Especially if you rhyme, you have to live by the pen Your man is your man, then treat him like your friend All it is, is the code of the streets So listen to the knowledge being dropped over beats Beats that are hard, beats that are funky It could get you hooked like a crackhead junkie What you gotta do to is know that the Tribe's in this sphere The Abstract Poet, prominent like Shakespeare Chorus (repeat until end) Edgar Allan Poe, it don't stop (uh!) |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory (2001)
[Q-Tip]
Back in the days when I was a teenager Before I had status and before I had a pager You could find the Abstract listening to hip hop My pops used to say, it reminded him of be-bop I said, well daddy don't you know that things go in cycles The way that Bobby Brown is just ampin like Michael Its all expected, things are for the looking If you got the money, Quest is for the booking Come on everybody, let's get with the fly modes Still got room on the truck, load the back boom Listen to the rhymes, to get a mental picture Of this black man, black woman venture Why do I say that, cuz I gotta speak the truth man Doing what we feel for the music is the proof and Planted on the ground, the act is so together Bonafied strong, you need leverage to sever The unit, yes, the unit, yes, the unit called the jazz is We deliver it each year on the street for the beat cuz You can find it on the rack in your record store(store) If you get the record, then your thoughts are adored and appreciated Cuz we're ever so glad we made it We work hard, so we gotta thank God Dishin out the plastic, do the dance till you spastic If you dis...it gets drastic Listen to the rhymes, cuz its time to make gravy If it moves your booty, then shake, shake it baby All the way to Africa a.k.a. The Motherland (uh) Stick out the left, then I'll ask for the other hand That's the right hand, Black Man (man) Only if you was noted as my man (man) If I get the credit, then I'll think I deserve it If you fake moves, don't fix your mouth to word it Get in the zone of positivity, not negativity Cuz we gotta strive for longevity If you botch up, what's in that (ass) (what?) A pair of Nikes, size ten-and-a-half (come on, come on) Chorus: We gotta make moves Never, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on) (4X) You gotta be a winner all the time Can't fall prey to a hip hop crime With the dope raps and dope tracks for you for blocks From the fly girlies to the hardest of the rocks Musically the Quest, is on the rise We on these Excursions so you must realize Hip hop continually, about the Zulu If you don't like it, get off the Zulu tip So what could you do in the times which exist You can't fake moves on your brother or your sis But if your sis is a (bitch), brother is a jerk Leave 'em both alone and continue with your work Whatever it may be into this society Everything is fair, at least that how it seems to me You must be honest and true to the next Don't be phony and expect one not to flex Especially if you rhyme, you have to live by the pen Your man is your man, then treat him like your friend All it is, is the code of the streets So listen to the knowledge being dropped over beats Beats that are hard, beats that are funky It could get you hooked like a crackhead junkie What you gotta do to is know that the Tribe's in this sphere The Abstract Poet, prominent like Shakespeare Chorus (repeat until end) Edgar Allan Poe, it don't stop (uh!) |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000)
Now you caught me heart for the evening Kissed my cheek, moved in, you confuse things Should i just sit out or come harder? Help me find my way Q-tip: Messing me up, my whole head Teasing me, just like tisha, did martin Now look at what you're starting Schoolboy's crush and it ain't on the hush The whole world sees it but you can't (uh) My peoples they complain, sitt and rave and rant (come on) Your name is out my mouth like an ancient chant (say what?) Got me like a dog as i pause and pant... Phife: Speaking of which, got a leash and i wish just to rock you miss (come on) Make a militant move, peep my strategy (what?) End of the day you're not mad at me (uh) Not dealing with nobody, now that's what you told me (what?) I said: "hey yo, it's cool, we can just be friendly" (come on) 'cause yo, picture me messing it up Her mind not corrupt with the ill c-cups Shit, i'm on my j.o. (come on) Bullshitting, hoping that the day goes slow (what?) Got me like a friend, what confuses me though Is kisses when we greet, tell me what's the dill yo? (dill yo, yo, yo...) (2x) Q-tip: Now why you wanna go and do that, love, huh? Making things for me towards you harder Killing me, just when i think we're there You got the whole vibe and the flows in the air Telling me 'bout next man But next man ain't the nigga with the plan Who got your heart in mind? It's about time that you just unwind (come on) Phife: And let it just happen, make it front-free (uh) Just sweat me like moneypenny (uh) Digging you, getting inside of your stee (what?) It's the quest that keeping you company Forever, or however you want it Q-tip: Word word, now wait a minute now before you jet it to the curb (yeah, yeah) Start to make affections, which is good not the hurt But it, it aint me, and i, i ain't blurred (uh) I'ma still just chill with you Maybe things could change if you change your view (come on) If not then i guess it is cool (yeah) Just, to keep to yourself and adbide by the rules, right Check it out now... Check it out now... Like that now... Check it out now... Wha wha now... Check it out now... Yeah yeah now... Check it out now... Check it out now... It's like that now... Check it out now... Yeah yeah now... Check it out now... What you say, what? what? till fade out |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - People'S Instinctive Travels And The Parths Of Rhythm (1997) | |||||
|
|
3:20 |
|
||
| from Tribeca - Dragon Down (2004) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Beats Rhymes And Life (2001)
intro(fading in): Drifting, drifting, drifting, drifting, drifting,
drifting, drifting, drifting, drifting by, totally. Drifting by(just)totally. Drifting by(just)totally Q-Tip: The deadly venom, let me start from the beginning We always hittin, so yo, there'll be no extra innings As I send the mic out the park like Reggie Jackson You be the minor leaguer who sees no action The coming attraction(what!) The main feature And I'ma greet ya, like a rhymin ass creature Lurking all up in the dark, unknown parts The brotha well prepared is the brotha who will start And that's me Akki, as long as the ladies move they bodies We'll have a four-on-two stand Cuz that happens to be the nature of man Sexuality, it is the format baby Ain't no ifs, no buts, no ands, or maybes But I praise Lord in the worlds that's unseen Respect me for that and let me do my thing(just) I said, respect me for that and let me do my thing Chorus: (Drifting by)You know we gotta get a hold (totally) Over the illest drum rolls (totally drifting by just...) Yo, how you doin? Let me give you an intro My name's the Abstract, now let me give you some info Got the diamond in the back, and the sunroof shit That makes the hardcore MCs resort to being bitch And I don't give a shit about being wild rich Just make me comfortable and I'll deal with it Your lust for the riches make a nigga feel sick Down to his zealots, upchuck and then spit Denouncin my beliefs, well then your wig get split Lay your ego on the ground so that you'll benefit You can take these words and relay it to your click Take some time for your mind and get off them head trips The Tribe is the crew that makes your mics get lit Like the Fourth of July on some firework shit My record company be on some true jerk shit But that's i-ight. Now, I'm on some true work shit And I'ma make it happen for my whole outfit Chorus: (Drifting by)You know we got to get control (totally)Over the illest drum rolls (totally drifting by just...)Third verse A-yo, we just gettin started Got to redirect this vision Got the beauty of a flower Plus dimensions like a prism Your minds are locked down like prison Y'all really need to go lay down Cuz positivity has risen We hittin Yo bust how we too strong to be broken Occasional malfunction pressure time We ain't jokin For security we on this run like Logan Kamaal's doin the hustle And you backstage voguin We all got flaws Don't ever try to think that you perfect We all are human beings There's bullshit at the surface Sometimes, I mean we rhyme Damn, we ain't prophets And if you think so, you need to stop it So jump back inside your shell Let your million dollar thoughts propel But next man don't get jel Playa hate that all carries weight That we don't need We slim with disabilities and Thick with possibilities Cuz then you can't move with fertility Navigatin with good visibility We put these tunes out in record shop facilities Let's strive to get this constant money activity We try to stay on the scene like Fidel So if you get enraged with these names it still rebels There ain't no plan B's Yo watch, we movin through with plan A Money market doin things the right way Chorus: (Totally)You know we got to get control (Drifting by, just)Over the illest drum roll (Totally drifting by just...)(x3) (Totally just(x2), Drifting by(x2) in background) Yo bust it out section, section. Section Linden Boulevard Section on Merrick Section the whole Jamaica Section on Flushing Section in Bed-Stiduy |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - People'S Instinctive Travels And The Parths Of Rhythm (1997) | |||||
|
|
4:15 |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Midnight Marauders (1993)
Oh my God! -) Busta Rhymes (16X) [Phife Dawg] There's a million MC's that claim they want some But see, I create sounds that make your ears go numb Peace to Sayers Ave., yeah you know how we go My best friend Steven at the Home Depot Lowerton is in the house, I can't forget Southside Walk past MC's like that girl did the Pharcyde I'm labeled as the cat's meow, the MC with the know-how Act like you know, not now, but right now Beast of the East, on MC's I have a feast I'd eat that ass like quiche, crack a smile like Shanice Straight out Jamaica scene, Jamaica, Queens But you could find me out in Georgia, or anywhere in between Now if my partners don't look good, Malik won't look good If Malik don't look good, the Quest won't look good If the Quest don't look good, then Queens won't look good But since the sounds are universal, New York won't look good Picture Phife losin a battle, come on, get off it Put down the microphone son, surrender forfeit Did I hear somethin bout a crew? What they wanna do? You better call Mr. Babyface, so he can bring out _The Cool in You_ or it'll be a sad love song being sung by Toni Braxton And I'll dissect you like a fraction Oh, you wannabe top cat MC's, I'll pop you like a zit You wanna be the champ, you more like Chief Some-shit Big up myself everytime when it comes to this MC's be runnin scared as if they're watchin the Exorcist I kick more game than a crackhead from Hempstead My styles are milk, man, you'd think that I was breast fed You know the steelo when the diggy Dawg is on the scene I dedicate this to all the MC's outta Queens that goes for Onyx, LL, Run-D.M.C. Akinyele, Nasty Nas and the Extra P You need a chart, straight up and down man, there ain't no other Nuff respect to all my peeps that made the album cover Yo, Tip don't worry Dunn you know I get the party jumpin Get on the mic and break em off a lil lil sumthin Yo, Tip don't worry Dunn you know I get the party jumpin Get on the mic and break em off a lil lil sumthin (Ooohh...) "Oh my God!" -) Busta Rhymes (16X) [Q-Tip] (over Busta Rhymes) La, la, la, la.. Doop, doo, do, do.. La, la, la, la.. Shooby-doop, do, do.. La, la, la, la.. Shooby-doo, do, do.. You know I'm on the other, for the top 40 Haha, you gotta do it like this.. We got the funk doody don shit, clearly it's the bomb shit So recognize me, kids memorize me Everyday, I be scroungin, really, I be loungin I play the down low, very very incognito Aries is my sign, I know that I can rhyme Sometimes I rhyme in riddles, plus I make the hunnies wiggle Intellect is the major, some heads like to wager The skills on the hill, overlookin dollar bills Man, ya crazy, thinkin you can phase me The Ab doesn't study near nonsense money Life seems to meet me, MC's seem too cheesy With they doody ass renditions of defeatin competition I rock to the roll man, yes, I'm a soul man Bet'cha bottom dolla, Vinia will make ya holla As ya stand at attention, did I forget to mention MC's will give me twenty, if I sense that they act funny Lyrics are abundant, right there, I sound redundant Just mentionin the fact, that the area is fat I dwell in the unda, so hunny, it's no wonder That I get plenty of tail, well I even get white I'ma bet hittin head crack, there money, take that Breakin niggaz off, cut their bank, then I'm off While my Nik'es match my lil hat, beat joint is mad fat Got the cutter of the box if a kid thinks he's ox For tier means creator, the poetry relator It's hemp, like Betsy Ross, let me tell you who's the boss La, la, la.. ("Oh my God!" -) Busta Rhymes) La, la, la.. ("Oh my God!" -) Busta Rhymes) La, la, la.. ("Oh my God!" -) Busta Rhymes) smooth it y'all La, la, la.. ("Oh my God!" -) Busta Rhymes) La, la, la.. ("Oh my God!" -) Busta Rhymes) La, la, la.. ("Oh my God!" -) Busta Rhymes) La, la, la.. ("Oh my God!" -) Busta Rhymes) La, la, la.. ("Oh my God!" -) Busta Rhymes) Queens got a Zoo Brooklyn got a Zoo Bronx got a Zoo Long Island got a Zoo Long Island.. got the zone Jersey got a Zoo Philly got a Zoo Milwaukee got a Zoo L.A. got a Zoo Oaktown got the zone La, la, la.. (4X) See, I like to get down Jack |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - People'S Instinctive Travels And The Parths Of Rhythm (1997) | |||||
|
|
2:56 |
|
||
| from Tribeca - Dragon Down (2004) | |||||
|
|
2:28 |
|
||
| from Tribeca - Dragon Down (2004) | |||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
| from Boomerang (부메랑) by Marcus Miller [omnibus, ost] (1992) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - People'S Instinctive Travels And The Parths Of Rhythm (1997) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Revised Quest For The Seasoned Traveller (2003)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Revised Quest For The Seasoned Traveller (2003)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - People'S Instinctive Travels And The Parths Of Rhythm (1997) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - Beats Rhymes And Life (2001) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory (2001)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory (2001)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Revised Quest For The Seasoned Traveller (2003)
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 |
|||||
|
|
3:06 |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Midnight Marauders (1993)
Aiyyo swing swing swing, to chop chop chop Yo that's the sound when mc's get mopped Don't come around town without the hip in your hop Cause when the shit hits the fan, that ass'll get dropped Mc's wanna attack me but them punks can't cope I'll have you left without a job, like isley from the love boat So money watch your mouth, or i might have to bust ya Battlin mc's, from jfk to russia Back down to london, sweden and brazil Do a u.s. tour for three months and then a chill Styles be fat like jackie gleason, the rest be art carney People love the dawg like the kids love barney "i love you, you love me" The shorty phife dawg is your favorite mc So move back yaself dread, you know the element The tribe is good for your health like a can of nutriment Mc's don't have no winds, mc's don't have no winds I flips you crazier than a busload of jerry's kids Your crew don't want it, man your crew don't want it But if you feel you can swing it, then money please bring it (sup) large professor in the house (sup) (sup) you know how we do (sup) (sup) i stay on your crew (sup) (whassup) like mario lemieux (whassup) (whassup?) peace to ike love (sup? hah hah) and the rest of the crew (whassup?) (whassup?) i meet you guys in front the cleaners Bring the blunts and the brew so Verse two: q-tip Whassup kids? the ab is speaking from the moon Thanks for your support, aiyyo i'll be home soon But the only thing i ask when i return from my task Is a whole bunch of beats and a blass full of ass My fist stands firm because i'm, black and solid I open up your pores like a plate full of collards C'mon take it easy wouldya, easy easy I'm up in the gulley, that's when i am her buddy She told me pull her hair, i did, it drove her nutty Filled up the hole like spackle or i mean putty When we over joints like this we never cruddy Extra p hooked the beat, and kids it feels luh-huh-ovely Check it out, cause my conception is immaculate A bachelor, lookin for a bachlelorette Back to you mc's, this is what your gonna get A first degree burn from my man ken's cigarette I hope you like malboro, paul you know we thorough like denver The beat feels like a never-ender But all things good must, so i won't sweat it Drop the c's for the youthful crew, i hope you get it As i stand, grip this mic inside my hand Boy i smack you up, like i was your old grand So respect yourself son, and come and gimme love Once again the ab is who you think of So chill with the beef money, we got a jetti Verse three: extra p (large professor) It's extra p and yo tip i'm bout to set it On the country once again here to win I'm uptown chillin, takin in this grand master vic blend From the projects, the pj's, fuck them two dj's Self mission, i had her in the ill position Saying "large youse the soul brother that i'd like to Eff with for the rest of my life" yeah yeah now check the method As i, proceed with what you need like akinyele A whip looks complete when the tires say firelli Funk monkey, one rapper fell off, now he's a junkie There's 8 million stories in the city it's a pity Don't fuck with the skins if she's trying to act shitty Shout to the guru, primo and zulu zulu Nation, was on a vacation, in the ghetto Yo ras slow your roll i'm bout to bag this here's metal Rapper nas on topic, seems we gonna rock it Queens represent, buy the album when i drop it (drop it) |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Beats Rhymes And Life (2001)
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 |
|||||
|
|
3:08 |
|
||
|
from Tribeca - Dragon Down (2004)
kess came around with a needle and a tread said
"let's sew your heart up it's been aching and bleeding for two long and after all it's such a pretty heart this damned sweet revenge of mine didn't taste as sweet as I thought so come lay down beside be me and sing like the fools we are" there is no great escape its just pain and pain again there is no great escape the speedboat is broken all over again kess came around with a mirror and some gin wiped the tears of my cheek said "let's get you out of this suit of sin let's get drunk and sing " there is escape its just pain and pain again' there is no great escape the speedboat is broken all over again |
|||||
|
|
2:13 |
|
||
|
from Tribeca - Dragon Down (2004)
so I love you and guss that's good thing
we could live together and talk about thethin important you could rub my hair with your hands and I could say all things that makes you're body shiver wo could eat our meals together and we could sleep like spoons when the night caves in la la la etc. and I'm told that's hard thing to do these times you could wrap your arms around me are hand as you like and i could say all things that makes your body shiver and we could our meals and we could sleep like spoons when the night caves in I've got to know what it's all about la la la etc. |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - Beats Rhymes And Life (2001) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - People'S Instinctive Travels And The Parths Of Rhythm (1997)
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! |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000)
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! |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Revised Quest For The Seasoned Traveller (2003)
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! |
|||||
|
|
4:10 |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Midnight Marauders (1993)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003)
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 |
|||||
|
|
4:24 |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Midnight Marauders (1993)
Q-Tip: The night is my mind The sun'll still shine But the night is on my mind So parlay while I drop this rhyme See, Jake be gettin illy when the sun get dark They be comin out the heads, but shit don't let me start Their activities are plenty in nighttime(nighttime) For the ghetto child, it seems to be the right time See, kids be gettin stuck with jewels and fly gimmicks Shorty see the action and then start to mimic Runnin to the corner, the dice game is blazin Lookin at the loot, it seems so amazin Puts it short down, to be exact would bound He shakes the stones in his hand, then he lets it down(uh!) Scam money don't make none He threw a trip on the ace, now he's out son Hits the local bodega to woof down a hero Son is on a 'Midnight Run' like De Niro Spots the shorty rock standin on his block The thieves be handlin in the pumps,so he asked it it's not Conversation that he kicked to the shorty was a sly one Increased intensity, his dance sure was a fly one Took her to the crib there she ran her gibs About mind upliftment and bein positive He yawned and he sighed til 1:05 Then he finally realized that hunny wasn't live At least he didn't plan on buildin for the evenin' Threw the Fila on the dome and said 'Come on yo, we leavin' Came out on the scene as he told her to beep him Saw his man Sam with the blunt in his hand (Aww Shhh...!!!)You know the transaction Brothas gettin lost in the weed satisfaction Comin down the block man loud as (fuck) You would swear Redman was inside the trunk As the night seemed darker, cops is on a hunt They interrupt ya cipher, and crush ya blunt See you left your work at home, so they pat you down for nuthin Why in the hell does 10-4 keep frontin? You push to the park, even though it's still dark The kid is nice on the hoop, he said 'I'll spot ya troop' The night is on my mind The sun'll still shine But now the night is on my mind, the night is on the mind The night is on your mind A yo, the sun'll still shine But now the night is on the mind As for me... I'm a nocturnal animal, God concentrates On a young black man, who makes the niggaz speak a shake The nighttime is busy, it's word to Aunt Kizzy It's the time we get down, yo son, you know the sound The flavas on the top with the rugged beat to back it The night makes the aura and the J can't hack it The way the moon dangles in the midnight sky And the stars dance around, a yo, I think it's fly Intensity, most rappers don't see it Spirit wise, musically, you gotta be it Serenity and sirens of the sounds and emotions In the concrete jungle and the sun don't bungle I think it's hard to find the words on how I feel I paid about a deuce twenty for the Ampex steel But let me slow down, I think I ran my gibs enough Peace out to the Nation, stay rugged and rough The night is on my mind, the sun'll still shine The night is on my mind, the night is on my mind The night is on my mind, yeah, the sun'll still shine But now, uh huh, the night is on my mind The night is on your mind, you know the sun'll still shine But now the night is on the mind, yeah, the night is on my mind The night is on the mind, a yo, the sun'll still shine But now the night is on the mind, yeah, the night is on the mind The night is on the mind, a yo, the sun'll still shine |
|||||
|
|
0:45 |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - Midnight Marauders (1993) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Beats Rhymes And Life (2001)
Your new lesson is to realize the mission when you hear it MCin, see I got this in my spirit I got verses like Mahalia singin church hymns So strap up because you skatin on ice that's wild thin A weak foundation doesn't make a good home That's why mine is built on chrome microphones We bout to do it theoretically, insteadibly, to the medley Come on It's the complete Kamal, unique, Fareed, breed That'll keep you broke down like a horse 5 speed So move buddy, a yo we got to get this money In this land of dead and crummy, ain't a damn thing funny A yo, shout out to Mobb Deep, the Extra P Busta Rhymes, De La, the J Beez, so don't sleep We got reality for the carriage Stayin sincere to this, so I know we gonna manage Give me, liberty in mass amounts and Swiss bank accounts With the sustainer, it'll be real So me and my brothas, we can sit down and build Like Rampage with that last boy scout appeal We got that silk, satin, Manhattan intelligence feel That keeps everything on even keels So all you slow brothas talkin yang, ya poo tang Now, we gonna show you how the real crew bang Consequence: A yo, I bring it to you live kid, Queens niggaz love static Your rap's had it, braggin more numbers than mathematics I get brains on progmatic from leavin wet dreams shattered That's the same copy gettin in your mug shot I stays hot like summertime on LBQ and boo boo The love shack is 192, my joint's smooth To watch them niggaz fall like Linque I keeps it brand new like school shoppin It's on and poppin The club peeps this nigga's steez like rayon You get laid off while I'll be gamin ghetto girl like 8-Off The verdict's in, I be the look of blendin Give up your goods cuz it's the start of your endin Q-Tip: (Where ya at?) We seein life for what it is (Where ya at?) We get this money for these kids (Where ya at?) We bout to build the foundation (Where ya at?) Phife: Now, all that glock totin' trash you talk will not prevail It's stale, you'll either be dead or in jail I keeps it realer than the local one mill Denouncin tough guy wannabes that look smoother than silk That's the sound of the man gettin yanked off the stage Tryin to front like he mad paid Suckin so bad, we threw his mama off the train (insane) MCs are just givin it all away (OK) Who said him know about the Quest type sound? Mess around and get your ass knocked down (clown) I dedicate this to the posers that play hard You wanna hear some rhymes, well come bring your bodyguard So he can peep the worldwide Willie that we display Leavin all MCs in complete disarray I beez a veteran MC, crushin crews for years You frontin hard, when you softer than the Berenstain Bears Yeah, chumps be like "Phife, that ain't fair" Fuck outta here, do I look like I care Come off my stage, before I grab ya neck and handle ya Wet ya like punani, then dry you like Canada Shaheed Muhammad's on the Gemini mixer Peace to Derrick Coleman, Mad Max and the Sixers I'm cappin hard cuz I got this rap shit sold )From Linden Boulevard down to Cascade Road You know my steez, I treat hip hop like a sport Holdin down fort up on Martinique Court like... Q-Tip: (Where ya at?) We seein life for what it is (Where ya at?) We get this money for these kids (Where ya at?) We bout to build the foundation (Where ya at?) We gonna start the Zulu Nation (Where ya at?) Come on, come on (Where ya at?) We gonna put it all together (Where ya at?) No matter what the hell the weather (Where ya at?) Uh, uh, mind power (5X) Uh, uh, kickin willie is good, all throughout your whole hood But we gotta start with the spirit first y'all Mind power |
|||||
|
|
3:19 |
|
||
| from Tribeca - Dragon Down (2004) | |||||
|
|
3:38 |
|
||
| from Tribeca - Dragon Down (2004) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Beats Rhymes And Life (2001)
chorus: We be the number one motivators Ghetto mentality and the innovators Some of y'all may really hate us But we won't be soft, all we wanna do is rock Phife: We be the crew that presents it on wicked instrumental Damagin your mental, from here to Sacramento This here groove was made for vintage freestylin Feelin like I'm chillin on a Caribbean island Rugged, raw material is what we bring forth A Tribe Called Quest, we representin up North What's that you're sayin in the back, actin all silly Kickin freestyle raps, rollin up phillies Q-Tip: It's the four man fiasco in charge like Roscoe Now you get the picture like Picasso We make it happen when these niggaz start rappin Who this, captain? Stick out your hand, you gets no dap and.. I got the Razor, got the Phife, I got the Shaheed Now all you shorties move your ass while you puff weed Blessin fans with autographs in my paths While other rappers get gassed, they be defeating the task Consequence: Yo, if I ruled the world It wouldn't be that gassed shit, niggaz will make the light swirl Cuz after you G, ain't nuthin but Girl...Scouts And I'mma show you what it's all about(ah yeah) Is what you say when my love is in your mouth Without a doubt, I cut MCs like the cord Cuz I does more than that MC from The Lords While you be froggin like Bud-wei-ser And rappin is what you slackin in I'm knockin MCs outta action like abstinance Rockin since kiss my dick was kickin ass Peachfuzz, cuz...you might be on drugs chorus: Q-Tip: To all my people across the state who sit back and contemplate Motivate, I motivate To all my people across the land who get their feet stuck in sand Motivate, I motivate y'all Consequence: A yo, I speak with something new but not Granddaddy I.U. Stay tuned, live from the L-B-Q A yo, it's destined St. John, I swing on your block You know how I get down like Heather B. with them glocks I came to lead my team to victory like Hayden Fox Cuz heads ain't ready for the willie I got Ya naw'mean slim, I dug my thing like them grim Leavin crews in state of black and blue like Rakim And if you don't know, you better ask another It's like 192 when we rollin deep cover So don't shut down on the Razor Cuz in the 9-Live we steppin through hotter than the Trail Blazers And in Queens, I be a legend like Richard Dean Son, I gotta team that Hakeem couldn't dream While you be standin sellin, Queens keep it live Who the hell you tellin (Kim from the Tribe) Phife: Let me tell you why I be the top dog in the industry Because all these so-called mutts are not seein me They too busy eatin cycles 1, 2 and 3 They can't MC, I'd rather be down with fuckin Droopy D My style is deadly, word bond, act like you fuckin know Been writin rhymes ever since Ray Parker sang with Radio You're style is played out like a two-tone down goose You couldn't Converse if you had fuckin react juice So hold your corner as I fuckin bless this mic in here I'm eatin through your crew like Stephen King's ankle layers Chop off my feet, word to God, I'm gonna hurt you (Will y'all fall off?) Will Laura fuck Urkel? Never, here comes the funk, smell the aroma Kid, my shit's the bomb, ask my peeps from Oklahoma Q-Tip: To all my people across the state who sit back and contemplate Motivate, I motivate, I motivate y'all To all my people across the land who get stuck in great sand Motivate, I motivate y'all To all my peoples everywhere throw your mitts in the air Motivate, motivate, motivate, motivate Can't do nuthin for your frontin, get involved and do somethin Motivate, motivate, I motivate, I motivate, I moti... |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - People'S Instinctive Travels And The Parths Of Rhythm (1997) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003) | |||||
|
|
3:30 |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Midnight Marauders (1993)
[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)) |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - The Anthology (2000)
[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)) |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003)
[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)) |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003) | |||||
 |
|
4:01 |
|
||
|
from High School High (굿모닝 스쿨) by Ira Newborn [omnibus, ost] (1996)
*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 (x2) 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 *Repeat 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 don't 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 didn't 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! |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Hits, Rarities & Remixes (2003)
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from A Tribe Called Quest - Beats Rhymes And Life (2001)
Intro: Kamaal (Q-Tip)
Phony rappers who do not write Phony rappers who do not excite Phony rappers, check it out, aight Verse One: Kamaal (Q-Tip) Yo, I was riding the train And this Puerto Rican kid said simple and plain Let's battle It kinda took me by surprised Cuz the brother was moving wit his eyes on the prize I said screw it, I ain't got nuttin to lose but um But I got to do this shit real quick so um Hurry up kid, bust your joints and then I'll bust mine And I be out cuz I got to see this hottie, he said ok Now check it, check it out, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, that's what he said Then I came back and just fucked up his head Cuz yo, he thought an MC who was seen on TV Couldn't hold the shit down in New York City Aiyyo, I showed his ass, then I went off on my task To bless her ass Uptown, real MC's will hold it down Yea, yea, sonny, to the beat like that You wanna bring it to me, where you at Verse Two: Phife Dawg Yes, dread, I had a similiar situation When this kid tried to tell me I didn't deserve my occupation He said I wasn't shit that I was soon to fall I looked him up and down, grab my crotch and said balls Of course he tried to bring it on the battling tip Ay, you know me, you know I had to come out my shit Trying to lounge at the mall, meet Skef and Mr Walton Finally I banged his ass wit the verbal assault He said a rhyme about his .45 and his nickelbags of weed That's when I preceeded to give him what he needed Talking 'bout I need a Phillie right before I get loose Poor excuse, money please, i get loose off of orange juice Preferly Minute Maid cuz that's exactly what it takes To write a rhyme, huh, to school your nickels and your dimes Because an MC like me be on TV Don't mean I can't hold my shit down in NYC Phony rappers who do not write Phony rappers who do not excite Phony rappers, you know they type Phony rappers, check it Verse Three: Phife, Consequence It seems there's a sanitation, y'all full of thrash talker Sounding good but money can you feed the dog hawker Talking 'bout your mic days and your breakdancing Not enhancing, you sound tired Oh, shit, I didn't know you like to play yourself in front'cha friends Sitting there, lying to no end MC's for me make things happening Talk about a world but in a form of rapping Who will be the captain of this ship If it goes down, don't you know you have to go wit it Just because you rhyme for a couple of weeks Doesn't mean that you've reach the MC's peak Let me stop sounding all bitter Ghetto child, never be a quitter But don't be a phony in the litter Take it as a letter from the better Take it from a man who used to rhyme in busted ass jetta's C: Yo, Phife, you need a condom P: Word to God, mess around I catch Aids from Mc's being on my nuts too hard C: Cuz on my blvd you better bring your bodyguard P: And what's your blvd C: LP, I represent naturally P: So don't step on the rolly if you know that you're phony Or else I bend that ass like elbow macaroni Cuz I gotta keep it real (gotta keep it real) A Tribe Called Quest, you see we never half step C: (So on your mark) get ready, MC's be jetti Me and Phifey be on ya like Veronica and Betty Archie, Jughead, snuffing Mc's From Brainslane down to Hempstead P: Yes 'Quence, see over His rhyme style is older that a Chrysler car Nova I'm wilder then the cats from Arizona Villanova, un, un, Kentucky Whos' the next MC stepping up to try and bust me Bring him here and boy, will I ever let him have it C: And when it comes to the microphone, don't even try to grab it What? |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - People'S Instinctive Travels And The Parths Of Rhythm (1997) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - Revised Quest For The Seasoned Traveller (2003) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from A Tribe Called Quest - People'S Instinctive Travels And The Parths Of Rhythm (1997) | |||||
|
