Here in 1992 we present The fabulous What's The Scenario remix Whereas there are seven MC's Six which are in physical form and one which is in spiritual essence And he goes by the name of, uh HOOD! Check the vibe, walk that ass or get got F it (shit) I lick buckshots Hood, madman, I rip up stages Lay down your wages, I'm wild like Larry Davis Extra, extra, pick up a clip I'll tear ass out the frame (Ha!) and grab my dick (Ohh!) I'm a Rock'Em Sock'Em robot kid, I drop bombs I'm rugged and deadly, so I shit on the petty I baseball bat a bastard, I'm bad news I'm crazy and clever, cut throats of crews Death on the phono, my skills are porno You say "oh no," you bitch ass homo I bag up waste, electrifyin', I'm prime-time I slaughter a slime, I'm the greatest of all time Sick ass brother, nasty ass nigga Pump slugs in your face, and dump that ass in the river Two tears in a bucket, f*ck it, kick the can (Say what, say what?) I'm a bad, bad man Quick is how I flip from the tip of the lip Punchin' out hits like Gladys Knight and the Pips The five-foot assassin has just raided your area Your booty rhymes are wack and that's the reason I ain't hearin ya (So!) Roll out the red carpet cause I'm kickin' this Vanilla Ice platinum? That shit's ridiculous Excuse my French, but profanity is all I knew And to you other sellouts, oh yeah, F you too And let it be known, I'm not the one to step to You're better off calling D-Nice to your rescue Freestyle fanatic, probably the best around As for corny MCs, like Chuck D, I shut 'em down The Artical Don of hip-hop and I won't stop The five-foot assassin has come to wreck 'nuff shop So do like Michael Jackson and "Remember the Time" (Do you remember?) Put on your dancin' shoes or somethin cause you sure can't rhyme (Big up, big up!) Enter new identity Next to say something cause you pass it to me What does it take to check a technique? (Many styles, many styles!) Hostile heat, brings bursts of energy Milo in De Dance is the new identity One two mic check, select for the ruffneck sect Ten to one that I come (Correct!) In my cyphers on blocks, I bring box to connect with knots So I can grow dreadlocks Maintain the rock (Don't stop the rock) Maintain the rock (Don't stop the rock) Kicking right inna your what's it not I could rock longer but fair is fair So C. Brown are we in the clear? (Yeah!) C. Brown are we in the clear? (Yeah!) Makin moves y'all (Moves y'all!) On and on and on (Check it, check it out!!) To the break of, break of dawn (Who's that?!) just one of the L.O.N.S And a Tribe Called Quest (East coast) to West Remix mad kick, more than Metallica To all MCs fall like the Battlestar Galactica Stampin', stompin', rompin' Compton (People all over the world!) I'm promptin (Style!) Pick a style, any style, Strong Isle Representation, sensationalization "Scenario" for the radio, 'BLS and KISS, so (Here we go yo!) Yeah Force, Main Source LP on the rise In living color we'll see seen through original eyes And I'm out like shout, Ooh Ahh, Ooh Ahh (Ooh ah, ooh ah!) There it is baby pah Flying in on a limb, slim trim, D I am There I am (There I am!) Don't run from a grim Sight we be right, be polite for my mics Like I'm like (See sick, see syke) And slip away, and off to the Poconos Spot picked the clothes, hype swing the pretty pose Yamaha (Ay-Ha May!) Let's split the funk, now it all spells (Hey!) Enough enough, Ms. Fitted I'm with it If I did it, I was blitted, and probably shouldn't have quit it Cause yo, my vocal status at Knight's like the Gladys Bed rest, spread test, and yo I'm like the maddest Male, not female, hail from Uniondale Bounce the b-ball cause beats are being yelled In the hallways always ringing with a (Ho!) This one two times nine on the Scenario Check it out everybody, rhymes and mics Black Benz gettin looped (Doin' what they like!) Eight black brothers in the public eye If you listen very close, I will tell you why (Hood!) Phife, Milo, Dinco and C. Brown Shaheed, myself, and Busta Bust Down Will commence to rock (Rock!) So bring on the flocks (Flock!) In-terrogation for the knockin of the box The boom-box ruler, controls the medulla None come cooler, I win like Shula So bust out the moves as you start to pursue her Intensified mind, nine-blunt consumer Tip will come booty (Well it's only a rumor!) The meanin' so deep that it starts brain tumors (Tumors!) Peace to Hood baby from the midnight crooner Smoke 'em up later, if not then sooner Hey what we gon do (Dooo) in '92 Even though we had fun (Fuuun) in '91 Wonderful my days, herb dream comin' down Ponna ponna new sound, leavin' cracks in the ground What's goin on my man? (Goddamn!) And now my brain is hurtin' Listen up, Busta, rhythm will hit 'em then I get 'em Rip on 'em, shit on 'em, hit on 'em, then I will sit on 'em Open up your mouth if you want the food To get rude, Flipmode, cause I'm in the mood Ah-heh, ah-heh! Yeah man, that's how it goes Body drippin with blood comin out your nose Give me a Band-Aid, what are you askin for? (More!) Only your sacred and pure Adverse, Zig-Zag, check it and the Busta new rap Rap, Busta Rhymes, or bust this wicked rhymes Yeah y'all in '92, I'm packin my roach spray (Anyway!) Ding-A-Ling, Tribe Called Quest, Leaders of the New School Mad brother when stealthy RRRAAAOW RRAOW RRAOW! To my dragon, baby, stop whinin' I see my influence still shinin' More crazy in '92, uh oh, time to go, yo That's the Scenario!
Written by: Ali Shaheed Jones-Muhammad, Andrew Noland, Bryan Higgins, G Webster, James Jr. Jackson, Jim Morrison, Kamaal Ibn John Fareed, Leroy Bonner, Malik Izaak Taylor, Marshall E Jones, Marvin R. Pierce, Norman B Napier, Ralph Middlebrooks, Trevor Smith
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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