DJ Quik, Hi-C, Shyheim Da Kid, Talib Kweli - Tha Proem lyrics

"The following presentation is rated R"

Uhh! God damn! yeah!

This my nigga DJ motherfuckin Quik
We gon' take this shit back
To the Mixmaster days
And put it all in your jawmeat
And wiggle it around a little bit, hahaha
YouknowhatI'msayin? Party favors nigga
Ahh yeah, y'all need a couple of 'em
We ain't playin witcho' bitch-ass either
YouknowhatI'msayin? Niggaz try to
Walk the walk, talk the talk

I said that bullshit ain't nothin man!

Niggaz can't do what we do "NO"
"Bullshit ain't nothin man!"
Damn so what you need to do
Is "stop stop stop stop STOP!"


Shut the fuck up and listen
For a minute "Listen!"
Pay attention - might learn
Somethin "Now LISTEN!"
Don't you carry yo' ass in the
Studio fuckin wit dem boys neither
Or they put knots all UPSIDE ya
Motherfuckin head with the beats!
That's my nigga Q i call him
"Quik, Quik-Quik, Q-Quik, Quik-Quik"
Quik-a-lodeon "Too Quik!" yeah huh? yeah
"Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik"
Talk "Motherfuckin Quik" spit it
Yeah ooh! Haha, yeah

Now off of two-fifths of drank (drank drank)
They got yo' boy lookin for a bitch to spank
(spank spank)
Baby you can kick it but ya sister cain't
(nah nah)
Runnin 'round smellin like a septic tank
(ewwwahh) girl you need to stop you
Know your ass is stank (stank stank)
Runnin 'round beggin all the baller for bank
(bank bank)
Tryin to hit a lick but like that you cain't
(nah nah)
Cause everytime your ass come around I faint
(wooo) people get to passin out
I'ma give you one more chance
But yo' ass is out
Now don't you bring yo' ass
Back smellin like raw trout (trout)
Cause everytime I see you I'ma bust you out!
(Here she come, look out)
And you niggaz with the demos (demos)
Man you just as bad as dem hoes (hoes)
Talkin bout your record comin out (out out)
But you need to put some gum in your mouth
(hell yes) cause before I hear you rhyme or
You get a beat from Quik

Yo yo this Shyheim
And y'all can suck my DICK! Son you owe me
Fuck the dough I want it in blood
You was my homey
Showed me nuttin but thug love
Put me on to the game
Bought me my first chain
Let me ride shotgun, in your Benz and Range
I'm thinkin how this big nigga gon'
Go against the grain
Hit him up when it's foggy outside
About to rain
It's about to rain teflon cop-killers
But we ride teflon can't-stop-killers
I thought you was fam 'til
You switched the love
Now you, rich and fuck, you forget the thug?
Heard you on the radio
But I ain't get no plug
And if you come around the way
I should get you stuck
I wish you luck, I'ma make you kiss the gun
And I ain't gon' stop until my justice done
What you wanna be labelled as
A coward or a duck? What powder you cut
You wanted that building for what?
When you rep that building
What you said for that building
If it wasn't for me
You woulda been DEAD in that building
You don't know what it feel like
To say I own that building
Get dough in that building
Or control that building
You don't know that feeling
You ain't condone that killing
Cause when the cops came, you was like
"Shy in that building"
I remember the days when you
Was shook in them buildings
You in front of these buildings
Frontin like you build them
When Scrams was home, you was on his dick
And you gave that bitch money cause
You always been a trick
You know Shy Da Kid, I'm back on the block
Bought the crack in the spot
Spit back in the block
Fuckin clap at the cops, if I'm rappin or not
Whatchu gon' do nigga? Shoot or get shot
I'm hot on the block like
New glocks out the box
All y'all fulla dope, at the bow what?

Yeah yeah yo kweli, I'm rock this body and
So forth and so on you can get the dick
One to grow on or one to blow on
Bet you Quik get his dough on
I spit kick the flow on
Got swift shit I throw on
Cause I'ma leave what I float on
Plus I get my roll on
Like Baby and Mannie Fresh
After I go on y'all niggaz'll
Never bust like tantric sex
The universal nigga that represent
The planet best
How I manifest from Brooklyn to
Los Angeles - people!
We hold this down like wherever you're from
Got my name all in your mouth
Like you pierced your tongue
Pimped the game so hard we
Leave them whores numb
The more I come, Kweli
I'm bout to blow like George Young
I'm the Don Cheadle of rap
Dope like arms and needles of crack
My lyrics attack and arm the people like gats
In Cali studios we rest the
Heat up on the console
Peep Hollywood niggaz who think
It's sweet like Comanco
Claimin they gangster and street like
They lookin for beef
But with a gun in they teeth
They just MC's lookin for beats
Y'all don't want trouble
We pop bubbles and flex muscle
Niggaz don't respect the lyrics
They respect your hustle
The industry is like Kinko's
Makin copies while you wait
And the people always scream for NEW SHIT
Like Clue tapes
Y'all speed this in your face
Slow down like Screw tape
Cause as long as you rockin with Quik
Nigga you straight