Listen up everybody, the bottom line
I'm a black intellect, but unrefined
With precision like a bullet, target-bound
Just living like a hooker, the harlot sounds
Now when I say the harlot, you know I mean the hot
Heat of the equator, the broth that's in the pot
Jalick, Jalick, ya wind up ya hip
Draftin of the poets, I'm the #7 pick
Licks, licks, licks boy on your backside
Licks, licks, licks boy on your backside
Listen to the fader, Shaheed lets it glide
Tip the earthly body
Heaven's on my side
Even in Santo Domingo
When I got a Gringo
We got mics, when do we go?
Know a little nigga who can ryhme when you ask me
Short, dark, and plus his voice is raspy
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 eating booty MCs 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 want to get with me
But just in case I own more condoms than TLC
Now the formula is this: me, Tip, and Ali
For those who can't count it goes: 1-2-3
The answer --- hey, big up is who I be
Brothers find it's hard to do, but never me
Some brothers try to diss but Malik
You see'm bitching
Me not care about them booty MCs, my shit is hittin
Trini gladiator, anti-hesitator
Shaheed push the fader from here to Grenada
Mr. Energetic, who me, sound pathetic?
When's the last time you heard a funky diabetic?
I don't know, man
I don't know, man
I don't know, man
I don't know, I don't know
Oh my God, yes! Oh my god
Complementary are we
The three for poetry
I got a humdinger coming hook, line and sinker
The Timbo hoofs with the prints on the ground
Timbos on the toes, I like the way it's going down
Down like a lady of the evening
When it goes in, toots, just believe it's in
Cause Queens is the county, Jamaica is the place
Take off your cleats 'cause you can't run the race
I think these are the right lyrics:
Listen up everybody, the bottom line I'm a black intellect, but unrefined With precision like a bullet, target-bound Just living like a hooker, the harlot sounds Now when I say the harlot, you know I mean the hot Heat of the equator, the broth that's in the pot Jalick, Jalick, ya wind up ya hip Draftin of the poets, I'm the #7 pick Licks, licks, licks boy on your backside Licks, licks, licks boy on your backside Listen to the fader, Shaheed lets it glide Tip the earthly body Heaven's on my side Even in Santo Domingo When I got a Gringo We got mics, when do we go? Know a little nigga who can ryhme when you ask me Short, dark, and plus his voice is raspy
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 eating booty MCs 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 want to get with me But just in case I own more condoms than TLC Now the formula is this: me, Tip, and Ali For those who can't count it goes: 1-2-3 The answer --- hey, big up is who I be Brothers find it's hard to do, but never me Some brothers try to diss but Malik You see'm bitching Me not care about them booty MCs, my shit is hittin Trini gladiator, anti-hesitator Shaheed push the fader from here to Grenada Mr. Energetic, who me, sound pathetic? When's the last time you heard a funky diabetic? I don't know, man I don't know, man I don't know, man I don't know, I don't know
Oh my God, yes! Oh my god
Complementary are we The three for poetry I got a humdinger coming hook, line and sinker The Timbo hoofs with the prints on the ground Timbos on the toes, I like the way it's going down Down like a lady of the evening When it goes in, toots, just believe it's in Cause Queens is the county, Jamaica is the place Take off your cleats 'cause you can't run the race
Oh my God, yes! Oh my god