De La Soul, A Tribe Called Quest - Sh. Fe. MC’s lyrics
Posdnous, Trugoy the Dove, Maseo
[De La Soul, A Tribe Called Quest - Sh. Fe. MC’s lyrics]
(Check it out, y'all)
We are here to tell the world just who we are
Shocking female
(MC's, MC's) , shocking female (MC's
MC's)
No need for, introductions
Cause I know you know my name and
Knocking MC's out the frame and
Putting them suckers to shame and
I live for hip-hop
So I have no time for fun and games and
So just come and peep the
Unique styles that we're displaying
The beat's just ridiculous
The lyrics articulate feels good
As if a girl had just touched her clitoris
Sucker MC's, I'm killing 'em
I'm so sick of seeing 'em
Silly (shit) when they rhyme, like that red rugby shirt worn by Gilligan
Plus the hat, they (shit) is wack
When you see me coming take ten steps back
I make usage of the pronouns, adjectives
Verbs my granny says "You always had
A way with words"
And that's because my word is bond
Lyrics are laws sucker MC's look at me like
A friggin' eye sore
Here comes a brother hipping others
On the style they lack
I've always rhymed abstract
I even know the brother named Abstract
I am the earner of the soul and mind
Forget the physical cause the physical
Will die with time
I'm shaped to vibrate indefinite proportions
Of the kids who need the fix
(Just listen to the mix)
I got the knowledge constant
Non-stop for the rubbishing
Like (niggas) using Clinton loops as if they owned the publishing
Gums be bleeding from illegal
Feeding on my verb
I bring the Mardi Gras to your face
I outwit vipers in my rhyme cipher
I can easily lick them cause they're
Victims of the subconscious race
Tossing periods in front of foes reps
It's not the 187 when the 360 slept
You swallow the cake from
The plate of elevate
Or you might get sparked by the
Crew who got the weight
So resuscitating rap like the
Hicks do with Presley
Is the kid who peeled the jeans
In Orleans off of Leslie
Sh fe mC number nine
If you let me rhyme nine
Times infinitely I will climb
I let my Walkman from Sony
Play cassettes from Rabboni
Which guarantees to put me on the narrow road
Ayo, that's it from me, Plug 3
And Ali explode!
When I rhyme, the effect just ripples
You sound sick, I hope your cells get sickles
And formulate into real stiff (shit)
Then I bet that (niggas) cut the chit chit
Cause the Ab will, be sharper than a Ginsu
Cutter or your bum (ass) head for the gutter
This is not a game and we
Ain't looking for the fame
That's not the aim
We came to rip the jam out the frame
My inter-reaction with paper is amazing
So needless to say mad
Trails are left blazing a whole lot of bull
(shit) rhymes start to get play
But I'm here to say that real rhymes do pay
I'm the type of brother that writes
Until my knuckles get nary
And through the domepiece
The rhymes will carry
Then transported to my throat then
The quotes hit the air
As I stand dipped with the wares
Rhymes get slot times
Move back from the jack
It's the verbal constructor
Some MC's is wack
I make a girl do the bogle
Doo doo brown and all
Make (niggas) jump up, drink Dom, and have a ball
I animate the unlively with the verbal combat
The Abstract, never the wack
Motivator of the many like Moses
Moving through
Bringing danger to the dummies that poses
That means you
The sub relator of the sub culture
Wack (nigga) vulture, I swoop down on crowns
Cause confusion all around
Mental burdens I bring to MC's who sing
They sad songs money, your dough's not long
Mines on the other hand is lengthy type
The Abstract gets real, real, real
Real down to Earth I hit the Long Island Rail
You never see me tango with
The horn and the tail
I got the kit for your mind
I design it like Zender
Smoking mad hope from my neighbors, and da
50 50 luck takes the "S" off my chest
Cause the "S" on my chest makes a mess
Settling for Superman, stupid man
Put on your glasses
Now your asses be slow gassin' like molasses
Continue the menu, next on the platter
Hey where that
(bitch) at? (He's right here boy)
I gotsta see what I got and
Who I'm getting it with
This ain't no nickel dime game
That I'm peddling with
Mikey Roads said "Stop riding
It be dividing
Taking me out how I be vibing"
(Niggas) actin' hard like gristle
But my pops got the pistol
Told me if I ever need it just whistle
Respects to Griff Dog for the razor
Much respects to Joe Buck for the favor
It's about a million brothers trying to
Be MC's in this world
I'm glad I got a baby girl
We are here to tell the world just who we are
Shocking female
(MC's, MC's) , shocking female (MC's
MC's)
No need for, introductions
Cause I know you know my name and
Knocking MC's out the frame and
Putting them suckers to shame and
I live for hip-hop
So I have no time for fun and games and
So just come and peep the
Unique styles that we're displaying
The beat's just ridiculous
The lyrics articulate feels good
As if a girl had just touched her clitoris
Sucker MC's, I'm killing 'em
I'm so sick of seeing 'em
Silly (shit) when they rhyme, like that red rugby shirt worn by Gilligan
Plus the hat, they (shit) is wack
When you see me coming take ten steps back
I make usage of the pronouns, adjectives
Verbs my granny says "You always had
A way with words"
And that's because my word is bond
Lyrics are laws sucker MC's look at me like
A friggin' eye sore
Here comes a brother hipping others
On the style they lack
I've always rhymed abstract
I even know the brother named Abstract
I am the earner of the soul and mind
Forget the physical cause the physical
Will die with time
I'm shaped to vibrate indefinite proportions
Of the kids who need the fix
(Just listen to the mix)
I got the knowledge constant
Non-stop for the rubbishing
Like (niggas) using Clinton loops as if they owned the publishing
Gums be bleeding from illegal
Feeding on my verb
I bring the Mardi Gras to your face
I outwit vipers in my rhyme cipher
I can easily lick them cause they're
Victims of the subconscious race
Tossing periods in front of foes reps
It's not the 187 when the 360 slept
You swallow the cake from
The plate of elevate
Or you might get sparked by the
Crew who got the weight
So resuscitating rap like the
Hicks do with Presley
Is the kid who peeled the jeans
In Orleans off of Leslie
Sh fe mC number nine
If you let me rhyme nine
Times infinitely I will climb
I let my Walkman from Sony
Play cassettes from Rabboni
Which guarantees to put me on the narrow road
Ayo, that's it from me, Plug 3
And Ali explode!
When I rhyme, the effect just ripples
You sound sick, I hope your cells get sickles
And formulate into real stiff (shit)
Then I bet that (niggas) cut the chit chit
Cause the Ab will, be sharper than a Ginsu
Cutter or your bum (ass) head for the gutter
This is not a game and we
Ain't looking for the fame
That's not the aim
We came to rip the jam out the frame
My inter-reaction with paper is amazing
So needless to say mad
Trails are left blazing a whole lot of bull
(shit) rhymes start to get play
But I'm here to say that real rhymes do pay
I'm the type of brother that writes
Until my knuckles get nary
And through the domepiece
The rhymes will carry
Then transported to my throat then
The quotes hit the air
As I stand dipped with the wares
Rhymes get slot times
Move back from the jack
It's the verbal constructor
Some MC's is wack
I make a girl do the bogle
Doo doo brown and all
Make (niggas) jump up, drink Dom, and have a ball
I animate the unlively with the verbal combat
The Abstract, never the wack
Motivator of the many like Moses
Moving through
Bringing danger to the dummies that poses
That means you
The sub relator of the sub culture
Wack (nigga) vulture, I swoop down on crowns
Cause confusion all around
Mental burdens I bring to MC's who sing
They sad songs money, your dough's not long
Mines on the other hand is lengthy type
The Abstract gets real, real, real
Real down to Earth I hit the Long Island Rail
You never see me tango with
The horn and the tail
I got the kit for your mind
I design it like Zender
Smoking mad hope from my neighbors, and da
50 50 luck takes the "S" off my chest
Cause the "S" on my chest makes a mess
Settling for Superman, stupid man
Put on your glasses
Now your asses be slow gassin' like molasses
Continue the menu, next on the platter
Hey where that
(bitch) at? (He's right here boy)
I gotsta see what I got and
Who I'm getting it with
This ain't no nickel dime game
That I'm peddling with
Mikey Roads said "Stop riding
It be dividing
Taking me out how I be vibing"
(Niggas) actin' hard like gristle
But my pops got the pistol
Told me if I ever need it just whistle
Respects to Griff Dog for the razor
Much respects to Joe Buck for the favor
It's about a million brothers trying to
Be MC's in this world
I'm glad I got a baby girl
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