You & You & You

[Featuring June Lover Sadat X Redman] Intro/Chorus: You and you and you clap your hands I want you and you and you to clap your hands I want You and you and you clap your hands I want you and you and you to clap your hands Verse One: June Lover Make a hole niggaz up comin through blastin Who's reactin I would like to know where's the action? Can I get a piece? If so point me out To your livest MC, without a doubt Hey I gets down for mine haven't you heard Breakin niggaz off somethin real proper word You can't see me, and as I appeared on the TV Representin Stapleton's click known as GP I'm bad news, rippin clowns in twos Take a minute to adjust, pump the Reebok shoes And I'm Swayze, leavin niggaz misty and hazy Fuckin like a mad Russian from here to Haiti Ladies, I keeps em locked down like bikes Game uptight like a boricua in some bikers Shorts I take none that's word to my mother Reputations, really makes people wonder Can I take em, shake em, one time But I won't lose composure, freeze when I froze ya Thirty-two below just-ice sacrifice to the Gods of rap, true indeed infact You couldn't handle, acrid pain of insane thoughs of seven and a half ounces of brain Wisdom gained nuff respect due to the righteous Who be building in the ciphers, clap your motherfuckin hands Chorus Verse Two: Sadat X I got the soul of James, with the flames on the horn I'm at Carnegie Hall, with a fist full of dollars The heavy man sings while the caged bird hollers From, lyrics to birds, guerilla tactics like the Serbs The kid want to be at the bar with the big boys I'll serve that ass a glass, this should be a blast I rhyme real fast, but I can still reach the mass Oh you got some heads with that lime green grass? Put it in the air, in war everything is fair And violent off the hoarse, you don't file for divorce On the grounds that I left a pound around in your crown Now Rule rip, but also Boogie Down I be the man on the stage like the man on the wax The blue collar MC with the blue collar job Walk around on the streets with my blue collar mob Train wrecks couldn't cause more damage than a runaway X Two-one-five line is up in your behind I rock from one-oh-six, all the way to one-ten Black puerto rican and dominican I came to rock for all my people and my uptown fans, c'mon Chorus Verse Three: Redman I endeavor, clever, Funk Doctor brings the storm weather you ready or not it's time to set shop up Lock up your doors while my metaphors make your glock pop up Chief unique Rocka, bitch knocka Fuckin up the place with unseen extremes Disaster that Freddy couldn't possibly imagine Beatin down beats like BeatNuts bruise crews Damage your conscience, totally fuckin your sleep up I need that OJ Juice in my system That make us income, of the victims Freaky deaky, blow your Platoon to Twins with Dangerous Minds I'm the expert mic cord strangless Bang the head like a car wreck collision My reefer, thick like boricuas, I love hittin The submission, go through thirty packs of rubbers Frankie Cutlass, use the cutters, fuck ya Demolish, leave most MC's jobless Boxin, apple cobblers, at Roy Rogers I make it happen, freeze Alaskans, with my armaggedeon Plus make Martin, get to steppin What cha want to do when I'm comin for you Run through your fuckin crew like the flu, check it Chorus