Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Mellow My Man, artist - The Roots.
Date of issue: 31.12.1993
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Mellow My Man |
One, two |
Yes, The Roots layin' back, rela-xin' |
Coolin' out with my man Malik B |
We call him Sla-xon |
YaknowhatI’msayin? |
We in effect |
Mode like Al B. Sure, for your plea-sure |
Aiyyo bust it |
We about to flip it on some ol' laid back, mellow my man tip |
We gon' set it like this |
Yo check it |
Bust it, La Di Da Di, who likes to party |
Like Slick Rick the Ruler I’m cooler than a ice brick |
Got soul like those Afro picks with the black fist |
And leave a crowd drippin' like John the Baptist |
It’s the cause of that «Oh, shit!» |
The skits I kick flows like catfish |
And got many MC’s on the blacklist |
I’m sharp as a cactus, plus, quick to bust gymnastic tactics |
Us, Roots is really true to that rap shit |
Now, holla to the scholarly street skats that follow me |
Back to the Soul Shack with packs of rap colonies |
Max that, Foreign Objects is mad abstract, make Shadrach |
Offender wanna go like Meshach, Black |
Thought the nappy cat, a bookworm, shoot styles like sperm |
Cool as Malcolm Little with conch a la perm burn |
The herb sticks like wicks, and flips when I slaps the hand |
Of my mellow my man, Malik B |
Here I goes, negroes best to know the flower |
The pro-fessional, best in those skills that kills so uhh. |
WHOA, slow down before you go down (sissy) |
Sissy, this is Agatha Christie — you’re slain and known now |
Next contender, Malik’s the axe offender |
Critique me so uniquely with mystique that’s so deep within the |
Microphones I grip, psych with poems so’s I slits throats |
Put him in a quote, when he croaks |
They sayin' -- isn’t it, is it the negro that did it? |
Cause wreck with the tech, make you jump and say 'ribbit' |
I exhibit many forms, prohibit the corny norms |
(And we’re in, your neighborhood) on the norms |
Capture, was to, whack ya |
Manu-facture, you can even ask Anita about the, rap-ture |
I figured, perhaps ya, a say it SLAM |
For my mellow my man |
The way we do it like this |
That, for my mellow my man |
It’s like that for my mellow my man |
No no we do it like that |
This, for my mellow my man |
It’s like this for my mellow my man |
No no we do it like this |
That, for my mellow my man |
It’s like that for my mellow my man |
No no we do it like that |
This, for my mellow my man |
It’s like this for my mellow my man |
Yo, I got spunk, plus funk And Jump Like Punks |
To Get Beat Down, turn that heat down, I’m crazy cool |
Deeper than the pool that Wilt the Stilt damn near drowned in |
Clowns bounce to sound when Thoughts poundin', brown’s |
My complexion, section Southern |
My brother-in is Jex, I |
Sweats no sex, 'cause this kid gets |
Grits 'n shit, it’s flex to drains that was crazed |
When your heart spit up, dip, dup, damn |
Yo, I lost it but back is the Black Boogey Man |
Manic mad musician, maker of noise |
That’s jocked by your homeboys |
I rocks my flocks of sheep, it’s the slickest shepherd around |
I was lost but was found, now I gets down |
From Philly to the Apple I, stop and holla tunes and then hit |
Up-town, Diggin Planets when they get Earthbound |
I kick the groovy tunes for you and yours, when I pass the can |
To my mellow my man, Malik B |
WHOAHHHHH, shucks, my nuc snuff ducks (uh-huh) |
Abruptly I erupt, to destruct, deducts |
In wax I like to smack em, stroke em as I cap 'em |
Change my name to Saran or Reynolds then I Wrap 'em |
Negroes know we be furrow to my borough |
Cause my ass is so thorough, like Levert Gerald |
Too strong to be sterile |
So I impregnates the greats (Say what?) |
Bust the Pacino’s, I won’t trust 'em |
Even though I lust 'em shapes -- females for retail prices |
Twice this nice as with sugars and spices |
I won’t smirk, 'cause my name’s not Urkel |
The voice with the multiple choice, she does a circle |
You wanna turn and page your eyes, and try to plagerize |
But I degrade ya, slaughtered ya and slayed ya |
Microphones I grip equipped to flip the hypocrites |
And nit-wits, with tidbit skits, that ain’t *shhh* |
It was a curse, but I divide it in half |
Gets the airplay, no fair play, you’re feelin' the wrath |
Of Malik, ayo get tragic, negroes that get dramatic |
Because I have the habit to smoke rabbits like a addict |
So if you can not rap, I will just slap YOU |
If you wants to pick up on your nose be shows the chrome |
And then we cap, YOU |
It’s too bad, dem cyan’t understand de true check |
For my mellow my man |
The way we do it like this |
That, for my mellow my man |
It’s like that for my mellow my man |
No no we do it like that |
This, for my mellow my man |
It’s like this for my mellow my man |
No no we do it like this |
That, for my mellow my man |
It’s like that for my mellow my man |
No no we do it like that |
This, for my mellow my man |
It’s like this for my mellow my man |
I think it’s for my mellow my man, uhh |
My mellow my man, right |
My mellow my man, uhh |
My mellow my man, right |
My mellow my man, uhh |
My mellow my man, right |
My mellow my man my mellow my man |
My mellow my man my mellow my man |
For Scott Storch, my mellow my man |
Leonard Hubbard on the bass, my mellow my man |
Brother? |
uestion on the drums, my mellow my man |
Gotta end it on the one, my mellow my man |
Check it |