"The following presentation is rated R."
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[Hi-C] [vocals being scratched]
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Uhh! God damn! Yeah!
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[Hi-C]
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This my nigga DJ motherf*ckin Quik
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We gon' take this shit back to the Mixmaster days
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and put it all in your jawmeat
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and wiggle it around a little bit, hahaha
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YouknowhatI'msayin? Party favors nigga
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Ahh yeah, y'all need a couple of 'em
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We ain't playin witcho' bitch-ass either
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YouknowhatI'msayin? Niggaz try to walk the walk, talk the talk
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But that bullshit ain't nothin man [scratches]
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I said that bullshit ain't nothin man!
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[scratches:] "aw, niggaz, niggaz.."
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Niggaz can't do what we do {"NO"}
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{*"Bullshit ain't nothin man!"*}
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Damn; so what you need to do.. is.. {"stop stop stop stop STOP!"}
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.. shut the f*ck up and listen for a minute {"Listen!"}
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Pay attention - might learn somethin {"Now LISTEN!"}
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Don't you carry yo' ass in the studio f*ckin wit dem boys neither
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or they put knots all UPSIDE ya motherf*ckin head with the beats!
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That's my nigga Q.. I call him..
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{"Quik, Quik-Quik, Q-Quik, Quik-Quik"}
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Quik-a-lodeon {"Too Quik!"}
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Yeah.. huh? Yeah.. {"Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik"}
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Talk.. {"Motherf*ckin Quik"} spit it
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Yeah.. ooh! Haha, yeah
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Now off of two-fifths of drank (drank drank)
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They got yo' boy lookin for a bitch to spank (spank spank)
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Baby you can kick it but ya sister cain't (nah nah)
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Runnin 'round smellin like a septic tank (ewwwahh)
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Girl you need to stop you know your ass is stank (stank stank)
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Runnin 'round beggin all the baller for bank (bank bank)
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Tryin to hit a lick but like that you cain't (nah nah)
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Cause everytime your ass come around I faint (wooo!)
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People get to passin out;
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I'ma give you one more chance but yo' ass is out
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Now don't you bring yo' ass back smellin like raw trout (trout)
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Cause everytime I see you I'ma bust you out!
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(Here she come, look out!)
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And you niggaz with the demos (demos)
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Man you just as bad as dem hoes (hoes)
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Talkin bout your record comin out (out out)
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But you need to put some gum in your mouth (hell yes)
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Cause before I hear you rhyme or you get a beat from Quik
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[Shyheim Da Kid]
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Yo yo this Shyheim, and y'all can suck my DICK!
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Son you owe me, f*ck the dough I want it in blood
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You was my homey, showed me nuttin but thug love
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Put me on to the game, bought me my first chain
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Let me ride shotgun, in your Benz and Range
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I'm thinkin how this big nigga gon', go against the grain
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Hit him up when it's foggy outside, about to rain
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It's about to rain teflon cop-killers
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But we ride teflon can't-stop-killers
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I thought you was fam 'til you switched the love
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Now you, rich and f*ck, you forget the thug?
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Heard you on the radio, but I ain't get no plug
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And if you come around the way, I should get you stuck
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I wish you luck, I'ma make you kiss the gun
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And I ain't gon' stop until my justice done
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What you wanna be labelled as, a coward or a duck?
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What powder you cut, you wanted that building for what?
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When you rep that building, what you said for that building
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If it wasn't for me, you woulda been DEAD in that building
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You don't know what it feel like to say I own that building
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Get dough in that building, or control that building
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You don't know that feeling, you ain't condone that killing
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Cause when the cops came, you was like, "Shy in that building"
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I remember the days when you was shook in them buildings
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You in front of these buildings, frontin like you build them
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When Scrams was home, you was on his dick
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And you gave that bitch money cause you always been a trick
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You know Shy Da Kid, I'm back on the block
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Bought the crack in the spot, spit back in the block
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F*ckin clap at the cops, if I'm rappin or not
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Whatchu gon' do nigga? Shoot or get shot
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I'm hot on the block like new glocks out the box
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All y'all fulla dope, at the bow(?) .. what?
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[Talib Kweli]
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Yeah yeah.. yo
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Kweli, I'm rock this body and so forth and so on
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You can get the dick, one to grow on or one to blow on
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Bet you Quik get his dough on, I spit kick the flow on
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Got swift shit I throw on, cause I'ma leave what I float on
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Plus I get my roll on like Baby and Mannie Fresh
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After I go on y'all niggaz'll never bust like tantric sex
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The universal nigga that represent the planet best
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How I manifest from Brooklyn to Los Angeles - people!
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We hold this down like wherever you're from
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Got my name all in your mouth like you pierced your tongue
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Pimped the game so hard we leave them whores numb
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The more I come, Kweli, I'm bout to blow like George Young
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I'm the Don Cheadle of rap, dope like arms and needles of crack
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My lyrics attack and arm the people like gats
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In Cali studios we rest the heat up on the console
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Peep Hollywood niggaz who think it's sweet like Comanco
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Claimin they gangster and street like they lookin for beef
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But with a gun in they teeth they just MC's lookin for beats
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Y'all don't want trouble, we pop bubbles and flex muscle
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Niggaz don't respect the lyrics, they respect your hustle
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The industry is like Kinko's, makin copies while you wait
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And the people always scream for NEW SHIT, like Clue tapes
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Y'all speed this in your face, slow down like Screw tape
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Cause as long as you rockin with Quik, nigga you straight
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