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Braniac dumb-dumbs, bust the scientifical,
Approach to the course and the force is centrifugal.
Can you find your way through the lyrics that be catchin’ ‘em?
Throw another rhyme across the room, they be fetchin’ ’em.
EPMD in effect, I’m clockin’ mad green
Like Kermit the Frog, sloppy like Boss Hog,
Girl was runnin’ wild…ate her like a corn dog.
It’s ninety-six degrees in the shade…
Before I catch blood on my blade.
So concisely, musically we are the herb
So sit back and light me.
Inhale…
My style’s kinda fat, reminiscent of a whale.
God works in different ways and it shows…
And everybody knows, love comes and goes.
I got a funny feeling like something was real wrong…
Looked at her shoes and her feets was real long!
Then it hit me, Oh please God no,
Don’t let this ho turn out to be a John Doe…
He pulled a fast one on me, yo!
Every night I pray to God: ‘Please, no more wack MC’s.’
I admit skinz ain’t a reason to lose friends,
But then again I didn’t know. Sorry.
I cannot stand no wack MC.
So step back if you please,
And don’t test me, you’re history.
I like ‘em brown, yellow, Puerto Rican or Haitian.
When I hit the skins they all say, ‘Damn Kane…
You knock out the Bush like a presidential campaign!’
God damn! Drug dealers dealin’ to the kiddies,
Livin’ in the city ain’t no pity on the itty-bitty.
We try to cry, but still they all die,
I try to speak to the youth, and the truth is: they all high.
The mind tricks the body,
Body thinks the mind is crazy…
Butterfly, searchin for a relax,
Pullin from the jazz stacks, cause it’s Sunday.
On the air is incense, sounds to the ceiling
Tried to get this feelin since Monday.
Well I’ma freakit like this because I be doper than the dopest,
I focus on the mic and if you like it you can quote this.
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 than TLC.
I smoke on the mic like Smokin’ Joe Frazier,
The hell raiser, raisin’ hell with the flavor.
You know it’s funny, when it rains it pours,
They got money for wars, but can’t feed the poor.
First of all, who’s your A&R?
A mountain climber who plays an electric guitar?
But he don’t know the meaning of dope,
When he’s lookin for a suit and tie rap
That’s cleaner than a bar of soap!
And I’m the dirtiest thing in sight,
Matter of fact, bring out the girls and let’s have a mud fight.
Abraham Lincoln got shot and died,
Freed the slaves so they put him on the five.
You just met me, you won’t let me…
Well if I couldn’t have it, silly rabbit, why you sweating me?
I hate your fuckin’ guts, and I hope that you die.
Sticky Fingaz’s tha name, and my life is a lie,
Cause I’m havin a bad day, so stay out of my way,
And what the pistol packin’ people say, you better obey!
We love it where we from, but we kick it where we at.
I dribble rhymes like basketball…
People call me ‘E.T.’
What’s that, Shaq man?
‘Extra Tall.’
You need to sweat yourself. Don’t sweat nobody else.
Oh lord, get on my skateboard and do a motherfuckin driveby.
What’s hip? When hip is just the norm?
Damn, I can’t wait until it get dark,
So I can light these fireworks up at the park,
And celebrate my independence,
It’s the 4th of July, but I ain’t got 10 cents.
Rap is something you do, Hip-hop is something you live.
Do you ever think about when you outta here?
Record deal and video, outta here!?
Mercedes Benz and Range Rover, outta here!?
No doubt, BDP is old school, but we ain’t goin’ out!
Leave it up to me while I be livin’ proof,
To kick the truth to the young black youth.
Commercial rap get the gun clap, day after day.
Are you tired of lyrical liars, passing fliers,
Wannabe MC’s, but really good triers,
Tripping over mic cords, getting you bored,
A total fraud, this kind of thing I can’t afford!
If wonder if I blasted a little Elvis Presley.
Would they pull me over and attempt to arrest me?
I doubt, doubt it, they’ll probably start dancin,
Jumpin on my dick and pissin in they pants and
Wiggle and then jiggle and grab on they pelvis
But you know my name, so you never hear no Elvis.
Don’t underestimate me when you date me,
Got my clamp off safety, that’ll make you hate me…
Dial the seven digits, call up Bridgette,
Her man’s a midget.
Plus she got friends, yo, I can dig it.
Raw I’mma give it to ya, with no trivia.
Raw like cocaine straight from Bolivia.
Stop tryin to be loud as me, cause you can’t do that,
Think about it…playing Russian roulette with an automatic!
I’m hooked on gin and tonics like your mama’s Hooked on Phonics
I rolls two spliffs, so now I guess I’m double jointed
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 than TLC.
We live to love, and we love to rock mics.
We speak in ghetto tongue, cause ghetto’s the life.
I never want a jheri curl up under my hat,
The woman in my bed has got to be strictly black,
I never want money if my lyrics are wack,
So I must…rock…the mic.
Who do I blame if I’m not a success?
Do I blame it on my pops that left
When I was feedin on my mama’s breast?
Or do I blame it on society?
With all this black/white stuff…man this shit is real tough.