| Hey, hey, hey hey
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| Hey, yes, yes I
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| C’mon, c’mon uh, uh. |
| uh
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| Another one of those Saturday Nights y’all
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| Yo y’all, take heed
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| Yeah, check it out, c’mon
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| You’re now rockin with the best. |
| uh
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| Without a doubt, take heed y’all
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| C’mon, yeah, uh
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| Uh, yo, about to give you what you need y’all
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| Without a doubt
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| Check it out now, it’s the type cerebral
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| World renowned, illustrious, ille-gal
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| My musical affection, bubblin within your zone
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| like champagne, known as the Fifth campaign
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| Thought be doin his damn thang
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| Bent like, a boomerang, tryin to maintain
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| I’m both yin and yang from Mi Kan Lang
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| What your lady gettin me up? |
| I’m never answering
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| Let her miss me, see me then she off tryin to kiss me
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| Talkin bout, «I dig you Tariq, the way you twist me»
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| Meanwhile, she comin home tipsy, all grinnin
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| And what you used to fit em before, you now swimmin
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| Just take a dive P-5 deep, the team winnin
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| Takin hip-hop back to, the beginnin
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| Cause MC’s are pretendin, I slap your sound
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| out the sky like I’m goaltendin, bring your career
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| to an endin, enter the next era trascendin for real
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| Knahmsayin? |
| If not, then man listen
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| For you to try to fuck with the Fifth, that’s ambition
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| I let y’all know the time indeed, y’all need to
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| take heed y’all
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| Get a little P-5-D y’all
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| Straight from the town of Phil-ly y’all
|
| But we about to give you what you need y’all
|
| Without a doubt
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| Take heed y’all, get a little P-5-D y’all
|
| Straight from the town of Phil-ly y’all
|
| But we about to give you what you need y’all
|
| Without a doubt
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| Yo, I control the stadium like the law long arm
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| Warn, ring the alarm, cause here The Roots come
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| The funk’s all ready for whoever want some
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| Your album get split like, a lump sum
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| No doubt, under this influencin of outcome
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| Millenium spaceship, totally wasted
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| Schoolly D classic, though I vocally laced it
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| Taste this swerve on a regular basis
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| Servin y’all whatever the place is
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| Blowin conniseur quality in my competitor’s faces
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| This is without doubt, your lady pass out
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| This Illa-Fifth Twilight Zone, you ass out
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| Shout, to my brothers on back route
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| Whippin the short that’s smacked out, dig it
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| Strump this in your casette deck, hip-hop has not left yet
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| I sent a verse in the mail like, a death threat
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| The critically acclaimed composer, stand over
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| whichever mute miniscule mic holder
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| You never knew the real before, yo I show ya
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| You need to make your thoughts more sober, think it over
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| Take heed y’all, get a little P-5-D y’all
|
| Straight from the town of Phil-ly y’all
|
| But we about to give you what you need y’all
|
| Without a doubt |