Song parody of
Say Word
by Boogiemonsters
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[Chorus:]
We turn it out (turn it out)
Work-work it out (work it out)
W-work-work it out (work it out) [Repeat x 3]
Say word (word) [Repeat x 4]
[Mondo:]
Now two years ago a friend of mine
Asked me to partake of a full plate of swine
And I was like, 'Yo, no black, that got to go'
Not fit for the belly of Mister Mondo
Why do some puff, lie and drink forties to pacify?
Why is the oppressor's clothes so freaky fly?
Why we movin' at our own pace and fallin' into the ditch
Of a trap laid for us way before the negro slave trade?
Why is it so cool to dis-believe in God?
Make your money, money, call your queen your hoe, then believe you hard
Why do we represent this old land that ain't even ours?
Why diss the East or the West coast but yet we can't claim to make flowers
See, it's not ours, let's devour our pride
Open up your eyes, recognize you gotta rise
Bahamadia, what up, shortie?
Word to the beatbox
Get on and make it hot
[Chorus]
[Bahamadia:]
Presents to be a FedEx right towards my righteous acts, but I'm human
And to front angelic illusion is just too time consumin'
Be 29 plus 1 and still bloomin'
Blessed with ability to drop a jewel or two
And circumference appears on occasion far and nears
Turn to hip-hop was their escape for many years
Beating nuts with the verbal punch to get me 'props over here'
Challenger of concepts to make your inner mind's eye tear
Wack MC, what's the big idea?
Far-fetched fantasy with no knowledge up in here
Stop playin' the role of prestige to make you say 'ah yeah'
Stop all of this mental wear and tear
Condition unfair, yet I still hold it down
Pure, pleasurable and profound, ah get down
'Cause there needs to be a balance to make the world go around
[Chorus]
[Vex:]
Crab brothers try to hold me back 'cause their life ain't blessed
Locked in the dungeons of stress
Tryin' to hold back profound sound, which will be inevitably released
Deadly nouns through the heart of the beast, without cease
Rise well simple ones from out of inequity and pity
I'm targetin' your city like cruise missiles using lock
Destroying racist dogma and blacks who act seditty
Plus that kid hunt it hit me and get down to nitty gritty
I'm witty and compelling as God lead me on the path of these swelling tracks
Yo, I swing the blazing battle axe
Like a Chinese super ninja injure false gods with my thoughts
Say word, word, that's how Vex wields the sword
So score 'em your alpha control
Like them heads who put on the back of the dollar
Novus Ordo Seclorum
We not in this for the status to be the baddest for the clout
We just show 'em what it's all about
No doubt, we turn it out
[Chorus]
[Mondo:]
And to the girl Bahamadi, ya don't stop
And to my man Posdonous, ya don't stop
To Bizarre Extremes, ya don't stop
We turn it out, we turn it out
To Khalil, ya don't stop
Organized Konfusion, ya don't stop
And to my man Busta Rhymes, ya don't stop
We turn it out, we turn it out
And to the EMI, ya don't stop
And to my man, ya don't stop
To Prince Paul, Prince Paul, ya don't stop
We turn it out, we turn it out
And to my man Skeff Anselm, ya don't stop
And to the Fu-Schnickens, ya don't stop
And plus my man Domingo, ya don't stop
We turn it out, we turn it out
[Chorus:]
We turn it out (turn it out)
Work-work it out (work it out)
W-work-work it out (work it out) [Repeat x 3]
Say word (word) [Repeat x 4]
[Mondo:]
Now two years ago a friend of mine
Asked me to partake of a full plate of swine
And I was like, 'Yo, no black, that got to go'
Not fit for the belly of Mister Mondo
Why do some puff, lie and drink forties to pacify?
Why is the oppressor's clothes so freaky fly?
Why we movin' at our own pace and fallin' into the ditch
Of a trap laid for us way before the negro slave trade?
Why is it so cool to dis-believe in God?
Make your money, money, call your queen your hoe, then believe you hard
Why do we represent this old land that ain't even ours?
Why diss the East or the West coast but yet we can't claim to make flowers
See, it's not ours, let's devour our pride
Open up your eyes, recognize you gotta rise
Bahamadia, what up, shortie?
Word to the beatbox
Get on and make it hot
[Chorus]
[Bahamadia:]
Presents to be a FedEx right towards my righteous acts, but I'm human
And to front angelic illusion is just too time consumin'
Be 29 plus 1 and still bloomin'
Blessed with ability to drop a jewel or two
And circumference appears on occasion far and nears
Turn to hip-hop was their escape for many years
Beating nuts with the verbal punch to get me 'props over here'
Challenger of concepts to make your inner mind's eye tear
Wack MC, what's the big idea?
Far-fetched fantasy with no knowledge up in here
Stop playin' the role of prestige to make you say 'ah yeah'
Stop all of this mental wear and tear
Condition unfair, yet I still hold it down
Pure, pleasurable and profound, ah get down
'Cause there needs to be a balance to make the world go around
[Chorus]
[Vex:]
Crab brothers try to hold me back 'cause their life ain't blessed
Locked in the dungeons of stress
Tryin' to hold back profound sound, which will be inevitably released
Deadly nouns through the heart of the beast, without cease
Rise well simple ones from out of inequity and pity
I'm targetin' your city like cruise missiles using lock
Destroying racist dogma and blacks who act seditty
Plus that kid hunt it hit me and get down to nitty gritty
I'm witty and compelling as God lead me on the path of these swelling tracks
Yo, I swing the blazing battle axe
Like a Chinese super ninja injure false gods with my thoughts
Say word, word, that's how Vex wields the sword
So score 'em your alpha control
Like them heads who put on the back of the dollar
Novus Ordo Seclorum
We not in this for the status to be the baddest for the clout
We just show 'em what it's all about
No doubt, we turn it out
[Chorus]
[Mondo:]
And to the girl Bahamadi, ya don't stop
And to my man Posdonous, ya don't stop
To Bizarre Extremes, ya don't stop
We turn it out, we turn it out
To Khalil, ya don't stop
Organized Konfusion, ya don't stop
And to my man Busta Rhymes, ya don't stop
We turn it out, we turn it out
And to the EMI, ya don't stop
And to my man, ya don't stop
To Prince Paul, Prince Paul, ya don't stop
We turn it out, we turn it out
And to my man Skeff Anselm, ya don't stop
And to the Fu-Schnickens, ya don't stop
And plus my man Domingo, ya don't stop
We turn it out, we turn it out
