Phony Rappers

Phony rappers, who do not write

Phony rappers, who do not excite

Phony rappers, check it out, a'ight

Yo, I was ridin' the train

And this Puerto Rican kid said simple and plain, "Let's battle"

It kinda took me by surprise

'Cause the brother was movin' wit' his eyes on the prize

I said, "Screw it, I ain't got nuttin' to lose, but um

But I got to do this shit real quick, so um

Hurry up, kid, bust your joints and then I'll bust mine

And I'll be out 'cause I gotta see this hun", he said, "Okay"

"Yo, check it, check it out, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah"

That's what he said

Then I came back and just fucked up his head

'Cause yo, he thought an MC who was seen on TV

Couldn't hold his shit down in New York City

Aiyo, I showed his ass then I went off on my task

To bless her ass Uptown, real MC's will hold it down

Yeah, yeah, sonny, to the beat like that

You wanna bring it to me? Where you at?

Yes, dread, I had a similar situation

Where this kid tried to tell me I didn't deserve my occupation

He said I wasn't shit, that I was soon to fall

I looked him up and down, grabbed my crotch and said balls

Of course he tried to bring it on the battlin' tip

And you know me, you know I had to come out my shit

Tryin' to lounge at the mall, me, Skeff and Mr. Walt

And finally I banged his ass with the verbal assault

He said a rhyme about his .45 and his nickel bags of weed

That's when I proceeded to give him what he needed

Talkin' 'bout "I need a Phillie right before I get loose", poor excuse

Money, please, I get loose off of orange juice

Preferably Minute Maid

'Cause that's exactly what it takes to write a rhyme, huh

So screw your nickels and your dimes

Because an MC like me be on TV

Don't mean I can't hold my shit down in NYC

Phony rappers, who do not write

Phony rappers, who do not excite

Phony rappers, you know they type

Phony rappers, check it

It seems there's a sanitation, y'all full of trash talker

Soundin' good, but money, can you be the dog walker?

Talkin' 'bout your mic days and your breakdancin'

Not enhancin', you sound tired and...

Oh, shit, I didn't know you like to play yourself in front'cha friends

Sittin' there, lyin' to no end

MC's for me make things happen

Talk about a world but in the form of rappin'

Who will be the captain of this ship?

If it goes down, don't you know you have to go wit' it?

Just because you rhyme for a couple of weeks

Doesn't mean that you've reached the MC's peak

Let me stop soundin' all bitter

Ghetto child, never be a quitter

But don't be a phony in the litter

Take it as a letter from the better

Take it from a man who used to rhyme in busted-ass Jettas

Yo, Phife, you need a condom?

Word to God

Mess around, I catch AIDS from MC's bein' on my nuts too hard

'Cause on my boulevard, you better bring your bodyguard

And what's your boulevard?

L.B., I represent naturally

So don't step on the boulie if you know that you're phony

Or else I'll bend that ass like elbow macaroni

'Cause I gotta keep it real (gotta keep it real) yep!

A Tribe Called Quest, you see, we never half step

So on your mark, get ready, MC's be jetty

Me and Phife be hangin' like Veronica and Betty, Archie, Jughead

Snuffin' MC's from Brainslane down to Hempstead

Yes 'Quence, see over

His rhyme style is older that a Chrysler Cordoba

I'm wilder than the cats from Arizona

Villanova, uh, uh, Kentucky

Who's the next MC steppin' up to try and bust me?

Bring him here and boy, will I ever let him have it

And when it comes to the microphone, don't even try to grab it

What?

"This feeling of embarrassment

This shyness, this bashfulness...

If you take that out of the people

Then these people will do whatever they want to do

And that is the very definition of America

A people who have no shame

And therefore, they do whatever they want to do"