| Together we’re coolin, the mic we’re rulin
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| Suckers we’re schoolin, you better stop booin
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| Skill trade (we know what we doin)
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| My name is Greg Nice I like to swing
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| Went to Canal Street I bought the dookie rings
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| After that, I bought a fur
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| Then I went to see the lady for a manicure
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| Cut my nails down low and my rings was glowin
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| Around my neck the dookie ropes was showin
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| Went outside, to the BM ride
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| With the VVS rims on all fo' sides
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| I was, butter soft had on fresh gear
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| Kickin it live to the girl in the air
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| Baby doll, when can we hang?
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| You got my number, give me a rang
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| Called me up yo, late one night
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| Let’s get busy cause the time was right
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| You know what she wanted, she wanted to do (What? What?)
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| Yo she wanted to date (what?) she wanted to OOH!
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| Took her to the movies, I took her to dinner
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| Told her I’m a vet, I ain’t no beginner
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| Grabbed her hand and said, «Let's catch a cab
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| Baby don’t worry I’ll pay the tab»
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| Dug in my pockets, for the gusto
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| Big bills, had nothin low
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| The S to the M double-O T-H'er
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| B-E-E no time to waste
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| Ah right about now I’m gonna reminisce
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| Of how a fly MC became a rap-ologist
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| Around the time when Chubby Checker, invented «The Twist»
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| I used to play spin the bottle, run catch and kiss
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| Smooth Bee’s my name, that’s what I said
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| I got a blue Mercedes, a big brass bed
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| I live on a hill overlookin a view
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| And I came here tonight just to rock for you
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| So let’s a rock y’all, and get dowwwn
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| Let’s take a trip on a funky merry-go-round
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| You see, round and around and around we go
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| And when the funky beat stops everybody will know
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| Cause there’s a time and a place where we’ll all have fun
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| And Smooth Bee will be your number one
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| Master of Ceremonies and you must admit
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| That I was, born and raised to make top hits
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| So vicious, malicious, and very discrete
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| I have mystical powers I perform any fete
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| I’m gonna be ranked at the top of my field
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| I’m gonna see my name in the Rappers Guild
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| With all the other rappers, who wanna be known
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| I’ll be boastin with a gold-tone microphone
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| Cause I’m death-defyin, never caught lyin
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| Not a female’s love I’m ever caught buyin
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| Get so much sex that I might explode
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| And on a sperm count scale I’m an overload
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| Yo, I’m a trooper, and I do loopers
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| I do stunts and I smoke blunts
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| Forty ounce of private stizzinock
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| Standin on the corner, holdin my jizzinock
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| Watching all the GIRLS, PASS
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| Boy she got a BIG (oooh oooh)
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| Hey, baby, whatcha eatin?
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| Looks to me, like you be beefin
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| Sneakin by I saw you peepin
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| Did you think Greg Nice was sleepin?
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| I’m not rich like Donald Trump
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| And I don’t have no big fat lump
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| Slouch, only on the couch
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| And if you fight me girl I will say ouch
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| (Ahhhhh yeah!)
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| Smooth Bee guaranteed to make a mic sing
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| I’m Smooth Bee I’m guaranteed, to give you what you need
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| Not a sip not a swallow but the whole damn bottle
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| Got a lot of juice but my girl cut me loose
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| For a sucker with cazals and plate named Bruce
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| Little did she know that I’m choice and not moist
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| Undisputed rapper with a golden voice
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| An entrepeneur, undercover love
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| Man of the world with my life to explore
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| Minks socks leather suits shirts made of velour
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| Smooth articulate entertainer MC
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| I’m rappin to a funky beat, my dialogue’s unique
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| Every time she sees me she offers me a skeeze
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| She says, «Please Smooth Bee, please, please!
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| Let me ride in your blue Mercedes»
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| I taunt and tease as she drops to her knees
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| And I let her wipe my nose everytime that I sneeze.
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| . |
| we know what we doin!
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| A skill trade We know what we doin
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| A skill trade We know what we doin
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| Teddy Ted down with the skill trade
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| Slice and dice, he must get paid
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| Sip iced tea, and lay in the shade
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| You gaze be dazed as he will amaze! |