The Chase, Pt. 2
Them can't touch we, no them can't touch we Them can't hold we, no them cam't hold we Them can't touch we, no them can't touch we Them can't hold we, no them cam't hold we (Damn Phife, you got fat!) Yeah, I know it looks pathetic Ali Shaheed Muhammad got me doing calisthenics Needless to say boy I'm bad to the bone Making love to my mic like Jarobi on the phone But um, no time for jokes, there's bills to be paid Hoes to be laid, punks to be sprayed Chumps to attack, so my man watch your back '93 means skills are a must, so never lack Sit back and learn, come now watch the birdie Your styles are incomplete, same as Vinny Testaverde Battling, whenever -- hot Damn! Give me the microphone boy, one time, bam! Keep it on the cooler cos here come the heat Lyrically in space the jazz will pace the beat As we proceed to elevate you we in 4/4 Run and tell your dad the Abstract's the bad As we proceed to move your hind parts we know as ass Poets got the gimmicks, but they lack the sassafras To make the average hardrocker cock the Glock And roam the city streets on the jury, they hot I be ingredients, like sugar in candy If your life is broke, girl I'll be the handy-dandy That can mend you, my fee is a shower For you, I scrub the back and I floss the butt crack Make you shiny, spiffy in a jiff Fucking with the Ab, you got the greatest of gifts A-yo, my mic is sounding bugged, Bob Power, you there? (Yeah) Adjust the bass and treble make my shit sound clear Move back yourself man, come watch me drop it For sure me a go do it, for sure me a go rock it Me not deal with no changaram, bangaram business I got soul on the end, like Jehovah's got the witness Musically, the three, poetically we be The enchantment on the airwaves, kids just fade Obey the MCs, cos the MCs say We flipping on niggas like we Super Dave But noticing my stature, y'all niggas know we gotcha Moving to the rapture, listen how we catch ya Moving with the grace, here we go, let's begin Making people jump out their goddamn skin Lyrically, we bite like we Rin Tin Tin Peace to Grand Pu and his many many skins Don't mark us for the 'L' cos you know we get the wins It's the Ab, Shaheed, and the Dawg for the blend And I wanna say peace to my man Bob P, my man Jerod And Skeff Anslem on the help out - and we out like shout Nine-tre, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh I don't wanna say nine-tre Cause my man Extra P said don't say the years So, it's for eternity, know what I'm saying? Rock rock on, everybody in Queens, rock rock on Everybody in Brooklyn, rock rock on Money Earnin' Mt. Vernon, rock rock on Everybody in Jersey, rock rock on Everybody in Philly rock rock on Everybody in Houston, rock rock on Everybody LA, rock rock on Everybody in The Sand, rock rock on Everybody in Egypt, rock rock on Everybody Nigeria, rock rock on Everybody in London, rock rock on Everybody in Sweden, rock rock on Everybody everywhere, rock rock on To the niggas on the famous, rock rock on Everybody no name, rock rock on To the kids at Nu-Clear, rock rock on To the The Cave rock rock on McDonald's, rock rock on This concludes Midnight Marauder Program Press any key to return to the main menu
Written by: STEVEN R. ARRINGTON, KAMAAL IBN JOHN FAREED, VICTOR GODSEY, BUDDY HANKERSON, ALI SHAHEED JONES-MUHAMMAD, BIZ MARKIE, MALIK IZAAK TAYLOR
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"The Chase, Pt. 2 Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 26 Feb. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/207786/A+Tribe+Called+Quest/The+Chase%2C+Pt.+2>.