"I love you, you love me"
Is a whole bunch of beats and a Blass full of ass
I'm uptown chillin', takin' in this grand master Vic blend
Back to you MC's, this is what you're gonna get
Your crew don't want it and your crew don't want it
People love the Dawg like the kids love Barney
MC's don't have no winds, MC's don't have no winds
Songwriters: John E Davis, E Mcdaniels, Paul Mitchell, Ali Shaheed Muhammed, Malik Izaak Taylor
But if you feel you can swing it, then money please bring it
Queens represent, buy the album when I drop it, drop it
Eff with for the rest of my life" yeah, yeah now check the method
Back down to London, Sweden and Brazil
From the projects, the PJ's, fuck them two DJ's
I hope you like Malboro, Paul you know we thorough like Denver
So respect yourself Son, and come and gimme love
So chill with the beef money, we got a Jetti
I stay on your crew like Mario Lemieux, peace to Ike Love
Funk monkey, one rapper fell off, now he's a junkie
Aiyyo swing, swing, swing, to chop, chop, chop
The beat feels like a never-ender but all things good must
I'll have you left without a job, like Isley from The Love Boat
Filled up the hole like spackle or I mean putty
On the country once again here to win
Large Professor in the house, you know how we do
I'm up in the gulley, that's when I am her bBuddy
Don't fuck with the skins if she's trying to act shitty
Self mission, I had her in the ill position
I hope you get it, as I stand, grip this mic inside my hand
'Cause when the shit hits the fan, that ass'll get dropped
A bachelor, lookin' for a bachlelorette
Do a U.S. tour for three months and then a chill
Extra P hooked the beat, and kids it feels luh-huh-ovely
A first degree burn from my man Ken's cigarette
Saying, "Large youse the soul brother that I'd like to
But the only thing I ask when I return from my task
C'mon take it easy wouldya, easy, easy
And the rest of the crew, I meet you guys in front the cleaners
Don't come around town without the hip in your hop
There's 8 Million Stories in the city, it's a pity
So move back yaself dread, you know the element
Yo Ras slow your roll I'm 'bout to bag this here's metal
Boy I smack you up, like I was your old grand
Yo that's the sound when MC's get mopped
MC's wanna attack me but them punks can't cope
When we over joints like this we never cruddy
Thanks for your support, aiyyo I'll be home soon
Whassup kids? The AB is speaking from the moon
The Tribe is good for your health like a can of nutriment
Shout to the guru, primo and Zulu Zulu
Publishers: EMI APRIL MUSIC INC., THE LARGE PROFESSOR MUSIC LTD, UNIVERSAL MUSIC - Z TUNES LLC.
The shorty Phife Dawg is your favorite MC
It's Extra P and yo Tip I'm 'bout to set it
So money watch your mouth, or I might have to bust ya
Bring the blunts and the brew so
Styles be fat like Jackie Gleason, the rest be Art Carney
Once again the Ab is who you think of
My fist stands firm because I'm, black and solid
As I proceed with what you need like Akinyele
I open up your pores like a plate full of collards
Nation, was on a vacation, in the ghetto
So I won't sweat it, drop the C's for the youthful crew
Battlin MC's, from JFK to Russia
She told me pull her hair, I did, it drove her nutty
Rapper Nas on topic, seems we're gonna rock it
Check it out, 'cause my conception is immaculate
I flips you crazier than a busload of Jerry's Kids
A whip looks complete when the tires say Firelli