A Tribe Called Quest
If The Papes Come
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4:14
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| Добавлена 20 февраля 2008 пользователем AND1 |
Смотреть клип If The Papes Come
Текст песни If The Papes Come
* also appears on the Tribe compilation The Anthology
[Q-Tip]
Uhhhhhhhh...
The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away
but not Hip-Hop yo, hahah
And let it be known.. that we are on some umm..
ehh ahh, uhh, a-chicka-uhh
ehh ahh, uhh, a-chicka-uhh
And this ain't on the pop tip yo!
Are y'all kids tucked in? (Yeah!!)
Here we go..
People in the audience, they cry out hoe
People with a gun, yo they'll cry out bo!
I don't like a cop, I don't sell a rock
but still the kanga's clock me, after a show
Standin on the stage and we're pourin with sweat
To people in the crowd I give what they get
Papers make paid, babies make laid
I don't really worry, nor do I fret
Waitin for the gimme and boy I got some
Sweat like a peach and tart like a plum
I thought what I think, I rock a bead-link
Legally I'll sip when I turn, twenty-one
A letter to the homeboy that freaked the head dome
The R man wants me to drop my microphone
Gotta be brief; no orders from a chief
Hot butter on what, say what, the popcorn
On the tour bus we hit the truck stop
A dollar for some chips, a quarter for some pop
We laugh and giggle some, Phife kiss the honeybuns
Ali Shaheed Muhammad keeps talkin that shop
The brothers cruise on as we Quest, for the check
Callin up Famous to see, if it's there yet
Not a bourgeoise, hate the seminar
Ignorant flip, hey Miss you must jet
Flex for the funkiest but start to bounce
Measure Hip-Hop for weight, by the ounce
Bush on the tush, you're pullin while I push
Play me for the punk then puss, feel the pounce
It's like that y'all.. (keep onnnnnnn)
Freak freak y'all... (keep, onnnnnnnn)
It's like that y'all.. (keep onnnnnnn)
Freak freak y'all... (keep, onnnnnnnn)
It's like that y'all.. (keep onnnnnnn)
Freak freak y'all... (keep, onnnnnnnn)
[Q-Tip]
Uhhhhhhhh...
The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away
but not Hip-Hop yo, hahah
And let it be known.. that we are on some umm..
ehh ahh, uhh, a-chicka-uhh
ehh ahh, uhh, a-chicka-uhh
And this ain't on the pop tip yo!
Are y'all kids tucked in? (Yeah!!)
Here we go..
People in the audience, they cry out hoe
People with a gun, yo they'll cry out bo!
I don't like a cop, I don't sell a rock
but still the kanga's clock me, after a show
Standin on the stage and we're pourin with sweat
To people in the crowd I give what they get
Papers make paid, babies make laid
I don't really worry, nor do I fret
Waitin for the gimme and boy I got some
Sweat like a peach and tart like a plum
I thought what I think, I rock a bead-link
Legally I'll sip when I turn, twenty-one
A letter to the homeboy that freaked the head dome
The R man wants me to drop my microphone
Gotta be brief; no orders from a chief
Hot butter on what, say what, the popcorn
On the tour bus we hit the truck stop
A dollar for some chips, a quarter for some pop
We laugh and giggle some, Phife kiss the honeybuns
Ali Shaheed Muhammad keeps talkin that shop
The brothers cruise on as we Quest, for the check
Callin up Famous to see, if it's there yet
Not a bourgeoise, hate the seminar
Ignorant flip, hey Miss you must jet
Flex for the funkiest but start to bounce
Measure Hip-Hop for weight, by the ounce
Bush on the tush, you're pullin while I push
Play me for the punk then puss, feel the pounce
It's like that y'all.. (keep onnnnnnn)
Freak freak y'all... (keep, onnnnnnnn)
It's like that y'all.. (keep onnnnnnn)
Freak freak y'all... (keep, onnnnnnnn)
It's like that y'all.. (keep onnnnnnn)
Freak freak y'all... (keep, onnnnnnnn)
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