[Verse 1: Dres of Black Sheep]
Yo! One for your mother, two for your pops
Three's for the niggas that's trying to kill the cops
So, bust it – the Black Sheep are here, put the burner on the car seat
D-R-E-S, so yes, I guess, sit back and watch this track get robbed
In transition, a pubic hair against it
I tell your mamama "I love you" if you thought my style was missing
My Snoopy, Droopy, Casper, or Punky
You're rolling with Dres the Black Sheep, that says my brother's freaking funky
I know you want to test me, but-but–but, please, don't try to sub me
'Cause way before you ever get to snuff me
Beretta to your head and, yo, you'd better be on your jet ski
I could never be The Ruler, but like Rick, I say I'm slick
You're just a backwards kid, excuse me, I meant to say a "dik"
So now you got beef and broccoli, or is it cock-olli?
But we got time, we keep 18, or yet two 9's
So let the horns blow, 'cause you know that you're just a barking dog
Lump on a log, prince now a frog
Don't play Post, because we both know you're Kelloggs
[Verse 2: Trugoy The Dove of De La Soul]
I be the Drama, so watch the 'Wonderama'
Catch a dip's hips sweeter when I call her "mamacita"
Not a lover, a fighter, no need for loving these, see
Didn't like the Brady Bunch, for many years I had a hunch
Living like the Givens, big thanks for big banks
I'm sticking like a dish, swordfish when I shanks
Maximum is maximized, minimum is none
You want to shoot the breeze? Please
Pass the peas, the pig is done
Not the vigilant, or walkin' with a slant
Want to hit the "Yes I Can Can" and never say I can't
I wear the Neil Diamonds and fucks what Simon says
Had to freak the fat, so I cut some from my dread
But back, again they come, just a little sooner to
Become one nation under the groove
Oh, I feel the Clinton, soothing me like Lipton
Tea, and it's definitely under the groove
I'm feeling kind of hyper like my man Rowdy Piper
Raining with the raps, so hit the window wiper
Tally-yo, brothers, go and form a cipher
Don't baby-sip the bottle or I'll hit you with the viper
Never toke the smoke, I don't even own a lighter
If it's any pipe I'm lighting, it's the pipe that goes inside of her
Check the beat, it be L.I., N.Y., listed as a rider
Break time from the rhyme, 'cause now I'm back and outta cider
[Verse 3: Fashion of The Beatnuts]
Snort up a key, yo – better sex than Rio
Fashion, Ju, and Les, I make a third of the trio
Fiddly fee, fiddly fye, fiddly fo, fiddly fum
I smell props, hit 'em hard, and then I cum
Love to eat a skin, but first I inspect it
Not a crima-nima-nal, don't got a record, go and check it
Or you can get ate up, pass me a plate of
A little seafood, I find a phone and ring a date up
So never start a track without Beatnuts on the list
Brothers buck shots point blank and still miss
Millie miss, Millie miss, why would I ever dis?
Fellas who fight for peace and fight for it with fists
Hey yo, Huggy Bear, do you manage or do your damage?
I'll let you tell the story, but first get you a bandage
'Cause you can go for miles and miles and miles and–
Talk more trash than the dog doo-doo piles in–
The kennel, and I say when I'll, or when they, stop
Let me see your girl, and better believe the drawers will drop
It's getting freaky, a Beatnut thing, that is
Let the horns blow, 'cause that's what time it is
[Verse 4: Phife Dawg of A Tribe Called Quest]
Yo! Dawgy Dawgy diamond, guess who's next?
Da 5 Foot Assassin with the microphone check
I'm all that and more, 'cause there never was comp
Play "Mr. Bad" and you shall get stomped
I had a head full of hair, where I kept all my rhymes
A brother from Queens and, yo, I always gets mines
No shorts are being taken – no, not this year
The Phife Dawg is here, so you'd better beware
Concieted? I guess it's something like dat
'Cause God don't make no jokes, so I know I ain't wack
So, relax and chill, sit your booty still
Or just take loss like the Buffalo Bills
"Put one up for the Phifer" – long time since you heard that
Suckers walk around talking 'bout they can burn that
Soft MC, he can't be talking to me
'Cause I'm far from a wuss and I never was a puss
I grab the mic, MC's start to get petrol
'Cause there's no MC like Phife, like those who fight Progresso
Open your back, now gimme no slack, see what I'm saying, son?
There's more to this here than being short, dark, and handsome
Messing with my lady? You know that's a no-no
Why? Because you can't mess with my Yo-Yo
You know that I'm the one, you know that I'm the what
I'm in there (Like The Don?) – nah, like Prego sauce
[Verse 5: Chi-Ali]
Well, it's me, Chi-Ali, and I'm the last to spark – yo
Everywhere I go I get stalked by narcs
And TNT just can't understand
You see a brother with gear, a beeper, and in his pocket a grand
But enough of that, let me break it down
We are all Black Brothers on a Quest, yes, we do have Soul
Some of us are hoein', some are on the positive role
Me, I'm hoeing; on the mic, I'm flowing
With the Tongue and we are positively growing
Now when I'm in a battle, I just be having fun
But competition be so scared that they be whiter than cum
Now you heard me flow to a nice tempo, so –
Let the horns blow
