Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Makin' It Blend , by - Q-Tip. Release date: 31.12.2001
Song language: English
Makin' It Blend |
| Uh… |
| Abstract, Queens cat, what we lookin' at? |
| Sixth sense, too immense, smellin' is the fact |
| Out here, you got your shiesty cats stabbin' backs for some track |
| Until we take it back, you prob’ly won’t be feelin' rap |
| WORDSWORTH, Brooklynite, what it lookin' like? |
| 5 senses, 9 inches, 5 foot in height |
| Out here, you got your crooks and heists |
| Shook and shiest, look alike |
| Payed off the books from dice, good lookin' and hookin' tight |
| Us, you, they and them |
| YO. |
| her and him |
| We make it blend I say we makin' it blend |
| YO… uh uh uh uh uh uh |
| Us, you, they and them |
| YO. |
| her and him |
| We make it blend I say we makin' it blend |
| YO… uh uh uh uh uh uh |
| Back when I came out, first joint I hit it out |
| New styles to talk 'bout, new ground to walk about |
| Still breakin' shit wit the hammer of Thor, god |
| Bigger than Asgard, hittin' your ass hard |
| Act it out 'cause there’s no time to word shit |
| You never win with Wordsworth the wordsmith |
| The verse gets tighter every second the earth twists |
| Heard its Q-tip and Words you had to purchase |
| Prefer this, now wait a minute, what’s that I heard skip? |
| Nerves twitch, play this so much it’s probably your third disc |
| On purpose, at your service, basement to surface |
| Learn this, how can you rehearse something that’s perfect? |
| Isn’t it funny when you use your favorite pen |
| And get your rhyme pad, write shit that’s truly bad? |
| Embarrass yourself, make a fuckin' mockery |
| End the hypocrisy, you never toppin' me |
| I’m the monopoly, in jail is your cacophonies of unfair policies |
| In there you’re rottin' B |
| You hit the lottery, well then you spottin' me |
| I’m extortin' you of all your natural bodilies |
| Ayyo it gotta be the way I respond that makes honor me |
| Song hittin' award winnin', y’all just the nominees |
| Play it safe, I’ll arrange your wake |
| My paper mate will have my label mate’s album released a later date |
| Police patrol the city 'til I’m as old as 50 |
| Hat back, clothes won’t fit me, causin' 5−0 to frisk me |
| My hands are ammunition, banned like contraband in prison |
| I’m who you wanna be blowin' out your candles wishin' |
| Makin' it, makin' it blend |
| YO… makin' it blend |
| Makin' it, makin' it blend |
| YO… makin' it blend |
| Makin' it, makin' it blend |
| YO… makin' it blend |
| Makin' it, makin' it blend |
| Make, makin' it blend |
| Yo, I like a woman wit a bangin' body, the face and frame of Halle |
| Attitude — angry, snotty, speaks slang and cocky |
| Time to hang ain’t gotta bring a posse |
| Through rainy days she got me, like Whitney stay wit Bobby |
| Yo, your cake is in the kitchen, your wishful premonition |
| It’s turned around by my firm thoughts of demolition |
| It’s time to numb your run and dim your vision |
| It’s time to give up the hopes and dreams of major acquisition |
| Ain’t got a drop top that goes 0 to 60 |
| But after shows, ladies drop tops and show they titties |
| Across the globe can’t oppose, it’s risky |
| Or even go against me, I’m Words |
| So every time that you flow you spit me |
| We in the asphalt, you cause your last fall |
| Insult to injury is when we curse the salt |
| Douse the open wound to the tomb |
| Its time to sit back and watch professionals in full bloom |