Can't Front on Me

Pete Rock & C.L. SmoothPete Rock & C.L… 

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Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth

Pete Rock & CL Smooth were an American hip hop duo from Mount Vernon, New York. They made their debut with their 1991 EP, All Souled Out and followed that with their 1992 LP Mecca and the Soul Brother. more »

Year:

1992

4:16

180 Views

Playlists:

#1

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Ah  yeah  yes 
Psychedelic 
Uh  come on 
This is what I like 
It's that Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth stuff 
Uh huh  yeah 
Brothers can't understand 
You know I'm about to drop a funky beat on you 
Like this... 

Hit the war drums that vibrate the earth underneath 
Here my people and I come  gotta wake up the chief 
Not a pale frail ghost  C.L.'ll wreck the most 
'cause the Mecca land never had a Leo Africanos 
The Sudanian, master of the Mediterranean 
And if it's lovely I'm the one you're Skypagin' 
Lower than the Mole Man, R&B, you're silly 
The only male hardcore crusin' through my city 
Rise to the supernova, swami like Bola 
Heavy hitter I consider Ueuker leanin' on my shoulder 
Measure like a yardstick, thick at arithmetic 
You add it up and I roast a high pick flick 
Hit the pitch and then I'm gone as the funk lingers on 
I don't publicize here to keep the black race torn 
But steady at an altitude where you get the mental food 
Not to be rude, here's a fresh pot brewed 
Oh, what a web we weave when we practice to deceive 
Sparkin' off a trick up the sleave 
Pete stocked the bedrock, listen and you'll see 
And I'm sure you will agree you can't front on me 

Yo, you can't front 
It's like that, c'mon, yeah 
Yes, you know I got to talk 
You can't front 
I'm tellin' you now 
C.L. Smooth and the Rock, c'mon 

Many consumed what was locked in a tomb 
That I gradually groomed, coming out now smelling like perfume 
So take a whiff when I wrap a gift, play ya like a gospel 
A logical apostle, colossal (whoooweee!) 
Afro, a cut me like a fade with a Braun 
Sport a bald head, but never needed Hair Club for Men 
Drop a SCUD, fully-capable, a form in a eclipse 
Skips to backflips soon as it leaves my lips 
Suave know, I can make the funk turn the habit 
Kick the old 45 and I can boogie on static 
Welcome to the Brahma Don, pilgrimage to Mecca Don 
A prayer for the parish, Soucron Affwaun 
'cause ain't no misbehavin' when they manage what you're cravin' 
Put the "Anger in the Nation" on your station 
Anvils that fills the whole circumference 
And black people crowd in a mass abundance 
To hear Gabriel's horn, blow it like a Naiji 
What's the flavor unit with the top priority? 
C.L., untouchable with the clip full 
Impossibly, the posse can't front on me 

Don't you dare front 
Don't you dare front 
Not on me 
'cause I'm the man 
C.L.'s the rhymer 
Right on time 
Right on, my brother 
Come on, kick another verse for me 

You desire the messiah for the entire empire 
Total organizer of the earth, wind, and fire 
C.L. and Pete Rock unlock the hard rock 
Many want to mock and the honey-dips clock 
Intercontinental for the residential 
Never coincidental, rough on a rental 
Count all the bars numeric 
Pro-prosthetic if ya let it resurrect the nongeneric 
The brother on the cover, yes, a rapper not a singer 
If you recognize him, point with your index finger 
Shock another flock when I hit the block 
God or Devil on the set that's level, labeled as a rebel 
In retrospect I detect those incorrect 
And reflect the black power project 
Supreme 'cause I chose to never blaspheme 
Going to the extreme, place it on a very high beam 
And drop jewels for five thousand fools who stampede 
'cause the proper show stopper's what ya need 
So come and get a taste of the dynamic duo 
And I'm sure you will agree you can't front on me (Yoooo!) 

You can't front, boy 
'cause we're the skilled fools (skibooze?) 
We'z are the funk 
The hardcore funk 
We ain't no joke 
Comin' out to note 
Ah, yeah 
With the funk track 
Sing it, P.

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