Busta Rhymes, A Tribe Called Quest - Oh My God lyrics
[Busta Rhymes, A Tribe Called Quest - Oh My God lyrics]
Listen up, everybody, the bottom line
I'm a black intellect, but unrefined
With precision like a bullet, target bound
Just living like a hooker, the harlot sounds
Now when I say the harlot
You know I mean the hot heat of the equator
The broth that's in the pot
Jalick, Jalick ya wind up ya hip
Drafting of the poets, I'm the #7 pick
Licks, licks, licks, boy, 'pon your backside
Licks, licks, licks, boy, 'pon your backside
Listen to the fader, Shaheed lets it glide
Tip the earthly body, heaven's on my side
Even in Santo Domingo when I got a Gringo
We got mics, when do we go?
Know a little nigga who can
Rhyme when you ask me
Short, dark, and plus his voice is raspy
1 for the treble, 2 for the bass
You know the style, Tip
It's time to flip this
I like my beats hard like two day old shit
Steady eating booty MCs like cheese grit's
My man Al B sure, he's in effect mode
Used to have a crush on Dawn from En Vogue
It's not like honey dip would
Wanna get with me
But just in case, I own more condoms than TLC
Now the formula is this: Me, Tip, and Ali
For those who can't count, it goes 1-2-3
The anti batty boy, big up is who I be
Brothers find this hard to do but never me
Some brothers try to diss but Malik
You see 'em bitching
Me no care about them dibby MC
My shit is hitting
Trini gladiator, anti hesitater
Shaheed push the fader from here to Grenada
Mr energetic, who me sound pathetic?
When's the last time you
Heard a funky diabetic?
I don't know, man, I don't
Know, man, I don't know, man
I don't know, I don't know
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Complementary are we, the three for poetry
I got a humdinger coming hook
Line and sinker
The Timbo hoofs with the prints on the ground
Timbos on the toes
I like the way it's going down
Down like a lady of the evening
When it goes in Toots, just believe it's in
'Cause Queens is the county
Jamaica is the place
Take off your cleats 'cause you
Can't run the race
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
The title MC means Master of Ceremony
Some people who MC don't know
What this term means
I'm a black intellect, but unrefined
With precision like a bullet, target bound
Just living like a hooker, the harlot sounds
Now when I say the harlot
You know I mean the hot heat of the equator
The broth that's in the pot
Jalick, Jalick ya wind up ya hip
Drafting of the poets, I'm the #7 pick
Licks, licks, licks, boy, 'pon your backside
Licks, licks, licks, boy, 'pon your backside
Listen to the fader, Shaheed lets it glide
Tip the earthly body, heaven's on my side
Even in Santo Domingo when I got a Gringo
We got mics, when do we go?
Know a little nigga who can
Rhyme when you ask me
Short, dark, and plus his voice is raspy
1 for the treble, 2 for the bass
You know the style, Tip
It's time to flip this
I like my beats hard like two day old shit
Steady eating booty MCs like cheese grit's
My man Al B sure, he's in effect mode
Used to have a crush on Dawn from En Vogue
It's not like honey dip would
Wanna get with me
But just in case, I own more condoms than TLC
Now the formula is this: Me, Tip, and Ali
For those who can't count, it goes 1-2-3
The anti batty boy, big up is who I be
Brothers find this hard to do but never me
Some brothers try to diss but Malik
You see 'em bitching
Me no care about them dibby MC
My shit is hitting
Trini gladiator, anti hesitater
Shaheed push the fader from here to Grenada
Mr energetic, who me sound pathetic?
When's the last time you
Heard a funky diabetic?
I don't know, man, I don't
Know, man, I don't know, man
I don't know, I don't know
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Complementary are we, the three for poetry
I got a humdinger coming hook
Line and sinker
The Timbo hoofs with the prints on the ground
Timbos on the toes
I like the way it's going down
Down like a lady of the evening
When it goes in Toots, just believe it's in
'Cause Queens is the county
Jamaica is the place
Take off your cleats 'cause you
Can't run the race
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
Oh my God! Yes, oh my God!
The title MC means Master of Ceremony
Some people who MC don't know
What this term means