Salt N Pepa - My Mic Sounds Nice Lyrics
Are you ready?Yo, hurb, take it from the topOne, two...My mic sound nice, check oneMy mic sound nice, check twoMy mic sound nice, check threeAre you ready to rock-rock yallTo the beat yall?A-keep on and you dont stopRockin on, keep rockin onIm the queen on the mic, and its true when I sayThat the pepa mc is here to stayAnd you know if I was a book I would sellCuz every curve on my body got a story to tellYeah, word em up, w-word em upCuz Im so fly, nobody can denyThe girl hasnt been born that can deal with iMe, sandy d., undoubtably defDont need to be dressed, Im fresh to the fleshYes, so tough you know it is a mustNow salt, get on the mic, and tell em why you go crushCuz Im oh-aye, Im on, Im onIm oh-aye, Im so damn onLike a grasshopper hoppin on the morning lawnLike a needle on a record when it plays a songLike little boy blue blowin on his hornAnd you know I got to be onMcs rockin and shockin, but it wont lastSalts on the mic, and Im kickinAsk me no questions, Ill tell no liesIts just a little warning, a word to the wiseYou been hopin and scopin, layin and prayinBut on the bottom is where youre stayingYoure wack, I thought you understoodYoure not related to me so you could never be goodI know you come from babylon (and you know why? )Cuz youre a babble-on mc (thats right)You babble on the microphone about what you wishBut could never beSo please dont tell me how youre gonna rockDont brag about the things that you aint gotDont feed me lies cuz now Im fullMy cow just died, I dont need your bullYo, yo, turn my mic up a little bitOne, two, one, two - all right, thanksMy mic sound nice, check oneMy mic sound nice, check twoMy mic sound nice, check threeRight about now as you can see in the place to beWere not talking about geometry, history or biologySo sandy d., explain this to me...Why do they call you the pepa mc?You mean you dont know? thats a shameOk salt, let me explainIm hot like a fire, burned down, diminishedOh, now I see! chill, let me finishI wanna make one and all understandI dont play, I slay when the mics in my handThe room temperature reaches a hundred and fourYou can scramble eggs on the floorThe pressure soars, the crowd, they roarSweat will drip down to your drawersThe pepa mc is like hot iceAnd I paid the price to make the mic sound niceForget about the rest, yes, I dont jestYoure blessed with one of americas bestSo I think yall better count your blessingsWhen salts in the house, hells in sessionIts a fact that I will waxMcs out there are gonna get taxedRockin to my funky beatIm a trip so I know youre gonna fall for meCuz this is the year all men fearFemale mcs is movin up hereSalt and pepa is strictly bizYou know the color of this, you know what time it isSuper is the strength of the boomin bassNature describes our pretty faceTurning out without a doubtMake no mistake, queens is in the houseYeah, check it out, ch-check it out