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