Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Quality Control, artist - Jurassic 5. Date of issue: 31.12.1999
Song language: English
Quality Control |
| Ayo my quality control, captivates your party patrol |
| Your mind, body, and soul |
| For whom the bell tolls, let the rhythm explode |
| Big, bad, and bold b-boys of old |
| Many styles we hold, let the story be told |
| Whether platinum or gold, we use breath control |
| So let the beat unfold, intro on drum roll |
| We be the Lik like E, Tash, and J-Ro |
| We harass niggas like we was the po-po |
| We can rule the world without Kurtis and still Blow |
| Finesse, from SP to Casio |
| Your jams ain’t def, you ain’t fresh, you’re so-so |
| If you don’t know us by now you’ll never know |
| You set that mood when we groove and prove a show |
| The name of the game is survive and prove your flow |
| You can’t out take Jurassic syllable |
| Cause it’s survival of professional radio |
| Stop and comprehend and heed the words of my pen |
| Survival of professional poetical Highlanders |
| (Soup, you plan on rocking something fierce?) Oh, am I |
| Zaakir’s the name, the A.K.A. |
| super |
| The verbal acupunture from the dope old schooler |
| I used to be the brother for others that used to dumb on |
| Now they be the lovers of brothers that can’t front on |
| Put me in the mix, LP 12-inch |
| SP, the elegant, poetic pestulence |
| I’m carbonated, the Fanti-confederated |
| Highly commemorated, and the most celebrated |
| For connecting it (Word!) Like verb subject to the predicate |
| Plus I got the etiquette |
| To keep it moving, and showing cats how it’s done |
| Cause it’s the verbal combat, position number one |
| We keep it beaming like a beacon, if it’s clearance that you’re seeking |
| Whether black or Puerto Rican, people back us when we’re speaking |
| We got the kind of rhymes that get you ready for the weekend |
| (To the mass amount of legions that came for party pleasing) |
| Our temperature is freezing all kind of different regions |
| The rhythm is the reason you’re checking for what we’ve done |
| Please son, our thesis, will rip your crew in pieces |
| Your rhymes ain’t ripe, homeboy, you ain’t in season |
| Ayo my quality control, captivates your party patrol |
| Your mind, body, and soul |
| For whom the bell tolls, let the rhythm explode |
| Big, bad, and bold b-boys of old |
| Yo, yo, well it’s the angelic man-relic clan repellent |
| My plan parent manuscripts withstand bullets |
| Flashing like a Japan tourist, we command pure hits |
| While you cramming to understand these contraband lyrics |
| My fam submits to pray, 5 times a day |
| Climbing into your mind with live rhyme display |
| J5 finds a way to remain supreme |
| Coming verbally Hardison as if my name was Kadeem |
| Ayo my team Dreamworks without Spielberg or spill words |
| Communicate from the Earth throughout the universe |
| I transmit, transcipts, transcontinental lyrics |
| Deeply rooted in your spirit |
| Up, I love the power of words, nouns and verbs |
| The pen and the sword, linguistic Art of War |
| No folklore or myths in my penmanship |
| The path of Scholar Warriors is what I present, uh |
| Verbally decapitating those against a |
| Jihad fi sabilillah, my words make sense |
| She gots to get up on your vocab, you gots to have vocab |
| Letters makes words, and sentences makes paragraphs |
| Yo, I make the pen capsize, the verbal with the planted eyes |
| Planning knives ever pair that I utilize |
| Spit juice, crack blood from your tooth |
| Inflict truths, speak Allah’s 99 attributes |
| You baby MC’s drink Pedialyte |
| While underground doesn’t like you, the media might |
| But we the defeat will change that |
| As we bridge gaps in this lyrical grudge match, brothers we slug back |
| Yeah, we bless tracks with the help of a raw rap |
| Inprinted like poor tracks all over your brain rack |
| My mental maneuver will clear and steer right through ya |
| We Grand like Puba, understand that we move ya |
| Ayo, my rhythm reveal rollercoaster real deal |
| Revolutionize with active build |
| I plant my dreams in the field and wait to harvest my skills |
| For the starving MC, hungry trying to get a meal |
| Ayo my quality control, captivates your party patrol |
| Your mind, body, and soul |
| For whom the bell tolls, let the rhythm explode |
| Big, bad, and bold b-boys of old |
| We’re going to take a trip back in time |
| Are you ready to get into your time machine |
| Ok, fasten you sealt belts |
| Are you ready? |
| Let’s go |