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A Tribe Called QuestA Tribe Called … 

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A Tribe Called Quest

A Tribe Called Quest is an American hip hop group, formed in 1985, and is composed of MC/producer Q-Tip, MC Phife Dawg aka Phife Diggy (Malik Taylor), and DJ/producer Ali Shaheed Muhammad. A fourth member, rapper Jarobi White, left the group after their first album but rejoined in 1991. Along with De La Soul, the group was a central part of the Native Tongues Posse, and enjoyed the most commercial success out of all the groups to emerge from that collective. Many of their songs, such as "Bonita Applebum", "Can I Kick It?", "I Left My Wallet in El Segundo", "Scenario", "Check the Rhime", "Jazz (We've Got)", "Award Tour" and "Electric Relaxation" are regarded as classics by the hip hop community. more »

Year:

1994

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Playlists:

#2

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One two, one two
One one, one two one two
Yo it's the Q-Tip, you know I get down
Yes I rock to the rhythm of a funky sound
It go
One one, one two one two

And it's the, Phife Dawg, and I do the same
And when it comes to ripping mics hey yo it ain't no games
One one, one two one two

Hey yo you know it's Busta Rhymes, ev-ery time
Oh yes, I'm coming wicked with the new design
I'm saying
One one, one two one two

MC's ain't coming equipped with the rhymes
Don't do the crime if you can't do the time
The time is eternal when you play with the miser
Soul is in my body, and the health make me wiser
The tantalizing wordplay yeah that's the joint
Sometimes I have to cuss just to prove my damn point
Brothers need to come, with better, compositions
I write and recite to make good position
In this, rap game here, we engineer
Stabbing up the jam yeah son shit's clear
And I be kicking rhymes in my own damn way
Beating niggas to the punch like Sugar Ray
Got the cool-ass style, that's cooler than the cool
My lyrics is the bullet and the mic is the tool
Peace to C-Seventy-Three, and C-Seventy-Fo'
Do a little something when I'm out on tour
Coming through like narcotics for the antibiotics
Flapping shorty's stockings to the Space-like Sprockets
What you really need to do is just boogie your ass
It's not gassed, we got to make the good times last
Let the good times roll, cause we in control
Take you out on your high less you paying a toll
Let the good times roll, let the good times toll
Take you out on your high less you paying a toll

Question Why is that, MC's be wack
And major labels wanna sound like crap, hey yo Funk that!
Word to life I'm coming rugged
Cuz once you add the hip to the hop kid, it equals out to love
If the beat's fat I use it, some wack shit, I lose it
Refuse it, how could you chose it, it stinks Refuse it
Put down the mic kid, cuz you gets no dap
How long did it take for you to see you can't rap
The name is Phife Dawg, and I got nuff styles
It doesn't take long for me to get buckwild
So bust what I'm swinging what I'm swingin when I swing
I rap when I rap cause I never wanna sing
Go ask the last MC what happened when he said battle
I bust his ass in Cleveland now he's Sleepless in Seattle
Rude boy official coming with the ill grammar
Coming back on kids, like Joey Montana
We be the three MC's to make your mind go batty
Mad play, on WKRP in Cincinnati
So lord send a hon, if ya kyant send a han sen a man
An if ya kyan sen a man, come yaself
Cause all deez biting MC's, lawd them something else
See I kick the styles that'll make ya ass melt
Money on my mind so never mind a trick
New York is the town and the team is the Knicks
World's greatest five footer ripping parties apart
Here comes Shaheed with the big green shark
Never had to rhyme about feelin what with lead
NEVER MIND DAT MON HERE COME DE DREAD

We coming far far far
Busta Rhymes is coming far far far
Ya know ya hear me Star! Bet your bottom dollah
Right after this jam about one million one two niggaz go follow
Whether it be to-day or to-morrow
Niggas be collaborating sickening you beat them like they father
Oh shit check out what I saying
You know my niggas don't be playing
Once upon a hacking time
I received the opportunities to represent my first rhymes
To define, lyrical sensations
Black masons blowing up the spot Just to represent the Nations
Three dimensions, tryclops,
Mr. Busta Rhymes three eyes
Fat like a burger and fries
Go back to the country to go check my grandmama
Bring it to the table at the meetings
Gathering large receivings delivering intellectual ass beatings
As I carry on with my proceedings
Greetings!! Watch a nigga debut on premier movie screenings
But before I be face to face
With my eternal resting place
I hope you find civilized every soul and every race
Sit dog sit! Busta Rhymes forever on that ultrasonic shit!

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