De La Soul Live @ the Dugout '87 song lyrics
De La Soul Live @ the Dugout '87 song lyrics
"Good morning gentlemen. In the absence of your responsibilities
To Sanctuary Records and Tommy Boy Music, you've been left with
Free reign to conduct business as you see fit. Your mission
If you so choose, is to continue to do what you do best - hip-hop
This tape will self-destruct in five seconds."
Making cash steady's on everybody's mind
DJ's spinning on songs now declined
Rap is fast, but rap ain't cool
Hot enough to burn, yet I roll with a firm
That'll put that fire out, lower your temp
Smack you with a banana, little chimp
I'm known to run laps around your BMI and ASCAP
Put me on a tour bus, cover whole map
Leave my organs intact when I die
But please donate every rhyme that I've fried and baked
To them no skill rappers on the make
Who say the same shit, come in the same fit
And I'm wonderful while I'm most wild
Most call me Wonder Why for years
Got Hip Hop like quarts of blood
That's the life flow to the very first
Everybody say Ho! for your ears
Ah yes yes y'all (yes y'all) yes y'all (yes y'all)
Rock a bald spot cause the God's so stressed
Brand new shoes (shoes) a brand new name (name)
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle duck down!
B-boy stance I got the buckle on my belt
East coast repping with the buckle on they belt
Forty-deuce flicks we had them fuckers on our belt
I'mma stay b-boy 'til this whole shit buckle
Rock 'n' roll, round here we Rock Steady
EMC's need to be MC's
Lyrically inclined does not mean jack
If you cannot comprehend that old boom bap
That backyard scrap, like BVD's
Tale Lords Devils and pinstripe Lees
That ba diddy ba bullshit on hold
Now it's SoundScan spins, and who went Gold!
Fuck all they want platinum
But how's that good when you lyrically wood?
Yeah, mic check one two
Yo it's feedback y'all, feedback, one two
YEAH, party ain't over y'all
We just tryin to fix the technical difficulties
Way out in Long Island, yeah
Aiyyo yo, turn down the music
Yo ummm, James Morris
James Morris, your mother is outside
You, you have to go home (your mommy's outside)
I mean damn B, guess you gotta home, bye bye!
Herbie Hancock, heh heh
Yo yo, don't turn on the light man!
Don't turn the light, turn off the light man
We 'bout to get it back on, yo DJ
DJ turn that back on man
Line up with the mic, let's do it