Prime Minister Pete Nice & Daddy Rich - The Rapsody (In J Minor) Lyrics
(The j)[ VERSE 1 ]Bringin it, bringin it back to original SeverBack to the roots, hip-hop double head-upRed light, ride up the bass just a smidgenYo, get the speakers singin like a stool pigeon[Sweeny tarts] slice up a slip throatLivin in a castle, hoes swimmin in my moatMasterful moves on a microphone endeavourPrime Minister, Daddy Rich, Sam - ah em, S-S-SeverBless you [for the butter] tissueBlowin like breeze [ ] on an igluPresident [ ] got the big bags([ ]) do your head like a doo-ragClockin mad dough every time that you seen usGo with the flow like [ ] penisPeep your move, but that's no haps, beeYou're ridin on my dick in a rapsody[ VERSE 2 ]Back in '86 Rakim hit The MelodyEver since then shit jumped off steadilyStill counterfeits [ ] plus felonyWhen I'm on the pavement people are tellin meYo, you got the swollen up, mad man musicalStyle, plus loops, loops quite suitableNever half-step, neither semi-semiI - I [ ] the professor, he's a swell guyWanna step to the drama over hit-and-runYo, you'd be out before I say Jack RobinsonSwig it, not a biggot like Archibald BunkerSix pack of soul, there she blow, yo I sunk herDunk ya like a [ ] then my head got [foamy]Took her like the Japanese took over Sony'Lost in space' with the [ ] Dr. SmithI got Lyor Cohen sayin (I smell a hit)That's the record biz, yeah danger, danger***** with me and Rich, and we might rearrange yaAin't a rapsody in blue, my crew is rollin deepConstipated Monkeys odor hangin on 97th streetGot flavor, ill behaviourRich won't spin till the dough man pays yaHittin up hits like a symphonyThe melody flows, rise to the rapsody[ VERSE 3 ]The name's Pete Nice - what, go twiceLike the 49er [ ] eatin Uncle Ben's riceStuck together like a Siamese twinWon't get jerked, just fill it to the rimThe R-i-c-h Daddy [ ]If I [ ] chicken, then you call me the ColonelHow many beats could the Richie Rich chopIf the Daddy Rich could chop percussion?Better call 911, get an ambulance, first aid kit for a cushionSo hop along, hop-hop-hop-hop-ohSqueel like a pig for the mafia capoSomeone said I'm a son of a gunBut hold upM hold up, who you're callin son?I got a drum on my side, so I swaggerSmokin boots, see a plum, yo, I bag herHigh on a fly, yo, I caught a [ ] buzzAmnesia - forgot where I wasSo bring it on back for the Minister Prime TimeLike [ernest and] Julio I sip wineBrewin up the tracks [have ya] like John MaddenPsychopathic, movin in a patternLike a serial killer on a move, seeIt's time to move hips to the rapsody
