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.
Q-Tip, “Electric Relaxation,” from A Tribe Called Quest’s Midnight Marauders, 1993
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My radio’s loud like a fire alarm:
The floor vibrates, the walls cave in,
The bass makes my eardrums seem thin.
Def sounds in my ride, yes the front and back…
You would think it was a party, not a Cadillac!
I want a girl with extensions in her hair,
Bamboo earrings, at least two pair,
A Fendi bag and a bad attitude,
That’s all I need to get me in a good mood.
She can walk with a switch and talk with street slang,
I love it when a woman ain’t scared to do her thing.
Me and Frosted went to get a drink.
But she ordered somethin’ bugged, and I ain’t know what to think.
She ordered potassium, calcium,
Carbohydrate, scotch with sodium.
She took me to her crib, threw me on the couch…
I woke up the next morning with a spoon in my mouth.
Y’all niggas ain’t ILL…you’re ILLogical.
You got a man? That’s somethin we will talk about.
He’s smart enough to have ya, but dumb enough to let ya out.
My radio, believe me, I like it loud,
I’m the man with a box that can rock the crowd.
Walkin’ down the street, to the hardcore beat
While my JVC vibrates the concrete.
Serve the curves, I never swerve I’m superb;
Every word you heard played tricks on your nerves.
I’m a beast on the microphone, a night stalker,
A killing machine, a savage street talker,
Jason with an axe, but I put it on wax
To eradicate the suckers who thought I had relaxed.
MC’s they retreat cause they know I can beat ‘em,
And eat ’em in a battle and the ref won’t cheat ’em.
I’m the best takin’ out all rookies,
So forget Oreos…eat Cool J cookies.
Perm in your hair or even a curly weave,
Wichya New Edition Bobby Brown button on your sleeve.
I tell you come here, you say, ‘Meet me half way,’
Cause brothers been popping that game all day.