| In this American metropolis filled with MC’s
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| A Tribe Called Quest came to drop jewels wit' ease
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| Plus make you party, we do this music thing for everybody
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| Black, White, Latino and Asian, we cold raisin'
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| The stakes of hip-hop to a new plateau
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| To bridge gaps in generations for future plantations
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| A god-fearin' folk cos we all from the yolk
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| Of one breed, one seed, to good goals we proceed
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| Nowadays I strive to be a very good influence
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| Even though not too long ago I was a truant
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| Now I’m droppin' it on this and many broad topics
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| From man’s obsession with money to holy prophets
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| Like Mohammed, yo, you know the scene is so freaky
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| Enemies they denounce me and my own try to sweep me
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| Now I got hip-hop acts posin' like fat cats
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| Lex and a Rolex, Moet and a top hat
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| But what about your contract, slick? |
| Is you proper?
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| It’s time we turned the tables of this hip-hop fable
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| I be strivin yo', tryna bang these joints out my skillet
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| And fulfil it, think about these kids, we can’t kill it
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| Now every dog has his day, but eff that, it’s my year
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| All you gat pullin' MC’s could never come near
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| All that bogus type chatter, please put it to rest
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| It’s the Phifer from Quest leavin' venues a mess
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| So I even start to (Rap) when you know you have no (Haps)
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| Wit' your simpleton (Lyrics), your light-hearted (Act)
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| Step back, me no have no time for dat
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| I’m blowin' up the spot for all you ras clot idi-ots
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| In a world where you have like a zillion MC’s
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| Ninety percent of all you suckers have filthy LPs
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| Bitch this, trick that, come on, act like you know
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| I be that up north MC who never chose to play the down-low
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| (His name is Phife Dawg) I label myself as The Boss (True dat)
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| Same height as Little Vicious, yet I’m shorter than Kriss Kross
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| Queens representation, son, you know how we do
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| While Light' and Sha, they represent BK to the fullest
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| I be the sidekick to The Abstract, so get ready for combat
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| Yo, what about about them biters? |
| Errr! |
| Me not like that
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| My motto is to wreck shop, I do it on the non-stop
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| Come on party people, you must give me my props
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| Cos y’all know good and damn well that the style has been mastered
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| So head for the border you peasy-haired bastards
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| Before I start to put it on ya, come on now, must I warn ya?
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| Queens is in the house so all MC’s go hold their corner
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| We feelin' pressures in here
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| You know we feelin' pressures
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| Feelin' pressures in here
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| You know we feelin' pressures
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| We gotta stand clear
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| Jus' gotta stand clear
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| Gotta gotta stand clear of the pressure
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| The what? |