A Tribe Called Quest - The Chase Pt. Ii Lyrics
"i'm bout to wreck ya body and say turn the party out" --> bizmarkie(repeat 4x)Phife:Them can't touch me no, them can't touch meThem can't hold me no, them can't hold me (2x)(q-tip: damn, phife you got fat!)Yeah, i know it looks patheticAli shaheed muhammad got me doing calisthenicsNeedless to say, boy i'm bad to the boneMaking love to my mic like jarobi on the phoneBut um, no time for jokes (what!), there's bills to be paid (what!)Hoes to be laid (what!), punks to be sprayed (what!)Chumps to attack, so my man watch your backCuz '93 means skills are a must, so never lack (uh!)Sit back and learn, come now watch the birdieYour styles are incomplete, same as vinny testaverdeBattlin, whenever -- hot damn!Give me the microphone bwoy, one time, bam!Q-tip:Keep it on the corner, cuz here comes the heatLyrically it stays, the jazz will pace the beatAs we proceed to elevate you, we in fo-foRun and tell your dad the abstract's the bagAs we proceed to move your high parts, we know who has assPoets got the gimmicks, but they lack the sassafrasTo make the average hardrock and ***** the glockAnd roam the city streets on the jury, they hotI be ingredients, like sugar and candyIf your life is broke, girl i'll be the handy-dandyThat commends you, my fee is a showerFor you, i'll scrub your back and i'll soap the butt-crackMake you shiny, spiffy in a jiff*****in with the ab, you got the greatest of giftsYo, my mic is sounding bug. bob power, you there?(yeah)Adjust the bass and treble make my shit sound clear(echo)Chorus(x8):(q-tip: after fourth time)Make you shiny, spiffy in a jiff*****in with the ab, you got the greatest of giftsA-yo, my mic is sounding bug. bob power, you there?Adjust the bass and treble...ok, could you come in tip?Q-tip:Whoop, back yourself man. come watch me drop itFor showing me i could do it, for showing me i can rock itMe not deal wit no changaram, bangaram businessI got soul on a hymn, like jehovah's got the witnessMusically, the three, poetically, be meWe in jammin on the airwaves, kids just raveObey the mcs, cuz the mcs sayWe flippin more niggaz like we super daveBut noticin my stature, y'all niggaz know we gotchaMovin to the rapture, listen how we catch yaMovin with the grace, here we go, let's beginMakin people jump out their goddamn skinLyrically, we bite like we rin tin tinPeace to grand pu and his many, many skinsDon't mark with the arrow, cuz we know we get the winsIt's the ab, shaheed, and the dawg for the blendChorus(until end):Q-tip:I wanna say peace to my man rob p, my man jerod, andSkeff anslem on the help out and we out like shoutNine-tre, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh...I don't wanna say nine-treCause my man extra p said don't say the yearsSo, it's for eternity, know what i'm sayin?Rock rock on, everybody in queens, rock rock onEverybody in brooklyn, rock rock onMoney earnin mt. vernon, rock rock onEverybody in jersey, rock rock onEverybody in philly rock rock onEverybody in houston, rock rock onEverybody la, rock rock onEverybody in the sand, rock rock onEverybody in egypt, rock rock onEverybody nigeria, rock rock onEverybody in london, rock rock onEverybody in sweden, rock rock onEverybody in beware, rock rock onTo the niggaz on the famous, rock rock onEverybody no name, rock rock onTo the kids at nu-clear, rock rock onThe cave rock rock on. mcdonald's, rock rock on
