Tytuł: Sh.Fe. Mc's

• Wykonawca: De La Soul
• Wyświetleń: 203

  
   We are here to tell the world just who we are
  Shocking female (MC's), shocking female (MC's) (Repeat 2x)
  
  Verse 1: Phife
  
  No need for, introductions, cause I know you know my name and
  Knocking MC's out the frame and, putting them suckers to shame and
  I live for hip-hop, so I have no time for fun and games and
  So just come and peep the unique styles we are displaying
  The beat's just ridiculous, the lyrics articulate
  Feels good, as if a girl just touched her (tits)
  Sucker MC's, I'm killing 'em, I'm so sick of seeing 'em
  Silly (shit) when they rhyme, like that red rugby shirt worn by Gilligan
  Plus the hat, they (shit) is wack
  When you see me coming take ten steps back
  I make usage of the pronouns, adjectives, verbs
  My granny says "You always had a way with words"
  And that's because my word is bond, lyrics are laws
  Sucker MC's look at me like I'm friggin' eye sore
  
  Verse 2: Posdnuos
  
  Heere comes a brother hipping others on the style they lack
  I've always rhymed abstract, I even know the brother named Abstract
  I am the earner of the soul in mine
  Forget the physical cause the physical will die with time
  I'm shaped to vibrate in definite proportions
  Of the kids who need the fix (Just listen to the mix)
  I just imagine constant non-stop for the rubbishing
  Like (niggas) use the Clinton loops as if they owned the publishing
  Ducks be bleeding from illegal feeding on my verb
  I bring the Mardi Gras to your face
  I outwit vipers in my rhyme cipher
  I can easily lick them cause they're victims of the subconscious race
  Tossing periods in front of false reps?
  It's not the 187 when the 360 slept
  You swallow the cake from the plate of elevate
  Or you might get sparked by the crew who got the weight
  So recessitating rap like the hicks do with Presley
  It's the kid who peed the jeans in Orleans off of Nesley
  Just be MC number nine, if you let me rhyme nine times infinitely I will
  climb
  I let my Walkman from Sony play cassettes from Raboni
  Which guarantees to put me on the narrow road
  Ayo, that's it from me, Plug 3, and Ali explode!
  
  Verse 3: Q-Tip
  
  When I rhyme, the effect just ripples
  You sound sick, I hope your cells get sickles
  You formulate into real stiff (shit)
  Then I bet that it cut the chit chit
  Cause the Ab will, be sharper than a Ginsu
  Cutter or your bum (ass) head for the gutter
  This is not a game and we ain't looking for the fame
  That ain't the aim, we came to rip the jam out the frame
  My inter-reaction with paper is amazing
  So needless to say mad trails are left blazing
  A whole lot of bull(shit) rhymes start to get play
  But I'm here to say real rhymes to pay
  I'm the type of brother that writes until my knuckles get nary
  And through the domepiece, the rhymes will carry
  Then transported to my throat then the quotes hit the air
  As I stand dipped with the wares
  Rhymes get slot times, move back from the jack
  It's the verbal constructor, some MC's is wack
  I make a girl do the bogle, doo doo brown and all
  Make (niggas) jump up, drink Don, and have a ball
  I ainimate the unlively with the verbal combat
  The Abstract, never the wack
  Motivator of the many like Moses
  Moving through, bringing games into the dummies that pose us
  That means you the sub relator of the sub culture
  Like a vulture I swoop down on crowns, cause confusion all around
  Mental burdens I bring to MC's who sing
  They sad songs, money, the dough's not long
  Mine on the other hand is lent me tight
  The Abstract gets real, real, real
  
  Verse 4: Dove
  
  Real down to Earth I hit the Long Island Rail
  You never see me tango with the horn and the tail
  I got the kid for your mind I design it like sender
  Smoking made hope from my neighbors, and the
  50/50 luck takes the "S" off my chest
  Cause the "S" on my chest makes a mess
  Settling for Superman, stupid man, put on your glasses
  Now your (ass) be slow guessing like molasass
  Continue the menu, next on the platter
  Hey where that (bitch) at? (He's right here boy!)
  I gotta see what I got and who I'm getting it with
  This ain't no nickle dime game that I'm peddling with
  Mikie Rose said "Stop riding, it be dividing
  Taking me out how I be vibing"
  Packing hard like pistol but my pops got the crystal
  Told me if I ever need it just *whistle*
  Respects to Griff Dog for the razor
  Much respects to Joe but for the favor
  It's about a million brothers trying to make it in this world
  I'm glad I got a baby girl