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A Tribe Called Quest
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One, Two, Shit (Featuring Busta Rhymes)
Lyricist:John William Davis, Kamaal Fareed, Ali Shaheed Muhammad, Trevor Smith, Malik Taylor
One, two, one, two One, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two One, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two One, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two
Yo, it's the Q-Tip, you know I get down Yes, I rock to the rhythm of a funky sound It go one, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two One, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two
And it's the Phife Dawg and I do the same And when it comes to rippin' mics, aiyyo, it ain't no games One, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two One, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two
Aiyyo, you know it's Busta Rhymes, every time Oh yes, I'm comin' wicked with the new design I'm sayin' one, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two One, wa, wa, one, one, two, one, two
MC's ain't coming equipped with the rhymes Don't do the crime if you can't do the time The time is eternal when you play with the miser Soul is in my body and the health make me wiser
The tantalizing wordplay, yeah, that's the joint Sometimes I have to cuss just to prove my damn point Brothers need to come with better compositions I write and recite to make good position
In this rap game here, we engineer Stabbin' up the jam, yeah, son, shit's clear And I be kickin' rhymes in my own damn way Beatin' niggaz to the punch like Sugar Ray
Got the cool-ass style, that's cooler than the cool My lyrics is the bullet and the mic is the tool Peace to C Seventy Three and C Seventy Fo' Do a little somethin' when I'm out on tour
Comin' thru like narcotics for the antibiotics Flappin' shorty's stockings to the Space-like Sprockets What you really need to do is just boogie your ass It's not gassed, we got to make the good times last
Let the good times roll 'cuz we in control Take you out on your high, less you payin' a toll Let the good times roll, let the good times roll Take you out on your high, less you payin' a toll
Question Why is that MC's be wack And major labels wanna sound like crap? Aiyyo, funk dat
Word to life, I'm comin' rugged 'Cuz once you add the hip to the hop, kid, it equals out to love If the beat's fat I use it, some wack shit, I lose it Refuse it, how could you chose it, it stinks renuse it
Put down the mic kid 'cuz you gets no dap Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com How long did it take for you to see you can't rap? The name is Phife Dawg and I got nuff style It doesn't take long for me to get buckwild
So bust what I'm swingin', what I'm swingin' when I swing I rap when I rap 'cuz I never wanna sing Go ask the last MC what happened when he said battle I bust his ass in Cleveland, now he's Sleepless in Seattle
Rude bwoy official comin' with the ill grammar Comin' back on kids like Joey Montana We be the three MC's to make your mind go batty Mad play on WKRP in Cincinnati
So Lord, send a hon, if ya kyant send a han sen a man An if ya kyan sen a man, come yaself 'Cuz all deez bitin' MC's, lawd dem somethin' else See, I kick the styles that'll make ya ass melt
Money on my mind so never mind a trick New York is the town and the team is the Knicks World's greatest five footer, rippin' parties apart Here comes Shaheed with the big green shark Never had to rhyme about feelin' what with lead Never mind dat mon here come de dread
We comin' far, far, far Busta Rhymes is comin' far, far, far Ya know ya hear me Star Bet your bottom dollah
Right after this jam about one million, one two niggaz go follow Whether it be today or tomorrow Niggaz be collaboratin' sickening You beat them like they father
Oh, shit, check out what I saying Ah hah, ah hah, oh, ah hah, ah, hah You know my niggaz don't be playing Once upon a mah, hah, hacking time
I received the opportunities to represent my first rhymes To define, lyrical sensations Black masons blowin' up the spot Just to represent the Nations
Three dimensions, tri-clops, Mr. Busta Rhymes three eyes Fat like a burger and fries Mama so mama saa mamma ma kosah Go back to the country to go check my grand mama
Eeeyah, bring it to the table at the meetings Gathering large receivings, delivering intellectual ass beatings As I carry on with my proceedings Greetings, watch a nigga debut on premier movie screenings
But before I be face to face with my eternal resting place I hope you find civilized every soul and every race Sit, dog sit Busta Rhymes forever on that ultrasonic shit
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