Kool Keith - Rubba Love lyrics

Yeah, check it out kool Keith is back y'all
Big Wille, Papa Large
Kickin' the funk for you
Jealous people out there, check it out

I see you moving your feet, bopin' ya head
Noddin' ya head, dropin' ya head
The sounds of the phantom
Kickin' on the dance floor
You move and boogie more

I represent for the world like the president
Strong as a bag of dust
Style like and elephant
No rapper out there, MC's on my public hair
Girls stare, section 8, I'm on welfare
Collectin' papes and hearing whack city tapes
You in the fruit crew rappin'
With a bunch of grapes
I see MC's on videos and the music box
That story's weak that your mean
And you're bustin' Glocks
You're just an old stone kid
Pebble throwin' rocks

I'd rather drive and ooh
With your girl friend
Your man is ugly the kid look like Gentle Ben
Don't get hype 'cause your style
Man ain't my type
You better step off I see it in your eye

Don't get jealous your heart
Pumps rubba love, rubba love
Don't get jealous your heart
Pumps rubba love, rubba love
Don't get jealous your heart
Pumps rubba love, rubba love
Don't get jealous your heart
Pumps rubba love, rubba love

Back again my friend
I drop you spin the record
One stations' confused and the
Others can't check it
You playin' stuff to me that sounds local
I didn't even hear it down south in Acapulco

I write national you play it
For the whole world
Brothers with the perm and girls
With the Jheri Curl
So many rapper, I have to call Sandman
Do, do in the pollo and everybody's whack
Man i watch BET and MTV
Around the globe all the girls wanna see me
I'm in your club tonight, I can wear a suit
With my man Malik, LO, spendin' mega loot
My pockets fat, my Caddy with a diamondback
Mature honey's get wet, wanna hit the sack

I count 10 though and throw it
On a Coup De Ville
I'm up in Burbank with acres
Out in Cherry Hill
I'm livin' stupid and people
Think I'm Bob Barker with my food stamps
I'm home watchin' Archie Bunker

My neighbor's nosy that old lady Rosie
Sucka's in the musical biz think they know me
They buyin' charts and flicks
In the Billboard
Can't rap for crap with nerve
To hold a mic chord

I cut radio waves with a Zoro Sword
You think I'm small lady in the red Ford
You in the mirror lookin' in my face
Ah ha, so that's how it is?

Don't get jealous your heart
Pumps rubba love, rubba love
Don't get jealous your heart
Pumps rubba love, rubba love
Don't get jealous your heart
Pumps rubba love, rubba love
Don't get jealous your heart
Pumps rubba love, rubba love
Third and Lex I fix my radio a sudden change
That R&B live band with
Singers sounds strange
Everybody's a fool if you think it's cool
Sittin' with Ex-Lax on the potty stool

I got tissue for you in the projects
Playin' the bomb drinkin' Balantine X
I see brothers in cars pump they Alpine
They bought Snoop Dog and want
A free tape of mine

Shame on you baby paw you so cheap
I hop in a Cadillac and drive up the street
I see my man, my tape he bought in his hand
He got green stacks and props
In a rubber band

I'm on the wheel side drivin'
On the left side checkin' out honey dips and
Freaks on the westside
I got big blow and all sorts of Bubble Yum
Bad breath kids step
Rappers need chewing gum

I'm like De La, droppin' kickin' more soul
Sounds are new and they
Drum machines sound old
Lyrical dummies, I make 'em turn do a summy
Girls surprised I'm black and I'm not bummy

I ride the train and still
Flip out on your brain
I move your dome to a lot
Lift it with a crane
You on my D head get back off my chisel
Chic a chic, ah wee

Don't get jealous your heart
Pumps rubba love, rubba love
Don't get jealous your heart
Pumps rubba love, rubba love
Don't get jealous your heart
Pumps rubba love, rubba love
Don't get jealous your heart
Pumps rubba love, rubba love

Yeah this goes out to all
The people in the world
Who are still jealous
Jealous of the next man
Jealous of the next girl
That's right, still jealous, ha ha
Ha ha, ha ha, ha