A Tribe Called Quest God Lives Through Lyrics

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Oh my God! [Repeat: x16]

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 *** 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 want to 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 want to be the champ, you more like Chief Some-****
Big up myself every time 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
'Nough 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' something
Yo, Tip don't worry Dunn you know I get the party jumpin'
Get on the mic and break em off a lil' lil' something

Oh my God! [Repeat: 16X]

You know I'm on the other, for the top 40
Haha, you gotta do it like this..

We got the funk doody don ****, clearly it's the bomb ****
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 *** renditions of defeatin' competition
I rock to the roll man, yes, I'm a soul man
Bet you bottom dollar, 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 under, 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' *****s off, cut their bank, then I'm off
While my Nike's 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 realtor
It's hemp, like Betsy Ross, let me tell you who's the boss

(Oh my God!) [Repeat: x2]
(Oh my God!) (smooth it y'all)
(Oh my God!) [Repeat: x5]

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

See, I like to get down Jack

Written by: Ali shaheed jones-Muhammad, kamaal ibn john fareed, malik izaak taylor
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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