A Tribe Called Quest

A Tribe Called Quest - Hot Sex songtekst

Je score:








Chorus 

Verse One: Phife 

Ayo who wanna pull on Phifer long time no hear from 
Suckers walkin' around talking about they could get some 
But that pop is non cypher, no can do 
And if you think I'm a dope, then ask the other crew 
And I proceed to let you know, exactly how to flow 
I'm not Lawn Doctor so just step off with the hoe 
Oops my mistake I didn't know you went with her 
Should I run down the line of the all the kids that done hit her 
Don't be bitter, I hear that honey resembles a critter 
I heard she likes to do one-one my man John Ritter 
But back to the subject you can't catch wreck 
You must get respect, to earn respect 
Suckers think they could herb me cuz know I where specks 
You're full of jokes, but you your name ain't flex 
I got the riches, the bitches, I'm large like a Huxtable 
You think you're all that but you're girl's quite doable 
Yeah, I'm tellin' you G, to back up off me 
I'm not a mad cohort, but I'm not Mr. Softee 
Rappin' is an art, coming straight from the heart 
So forget the chart because the action can start 

Chorus 

Verse Two: Q-Tip 

Where ya at? To all my peoples with the funk 
I'm the undercover brother dump your hoe in the trunk 
Save all the sad songs and the tearjerkers 
Niggaz step up it's the lyrical worker 
The poems that I create ain't in paper back books 
The poems that I create are for hookers and the crooks 
My mental is excelling cuz I dabble in the books 
I'm not the one to front on, so suboops-suboops 
Yo I gets the pickens, I'm such a damn Dickens 
If you step to this then the plot just thickens 
I'll run you around the track like a bunny and a dog 
To me, your just another MC on the log 
A link on the chain, fluid on the brain 
I boast of hype lyrics, and yours are mardane 
See I can't maintain, especially if you come back 
I'm the lyrical master blaster, yeah I can do that 
I can also do your girl, so leave the hoe at home 
Cuz when I get done, I'll have her strung on bones 
It's the no-joke pressure, that elevates my mind 
Makes me pick up and go when it's time to drop a rhyme 
My title is locked, the Abstract poetic 
I'm in the idle mode but my energy's kinetic 
So smooth and debonair, especially for the ear 
Gotta keep my thing in gear cuz it's evident and clear 
That I will rock, rock, rock [fades away] 

Chorus
 
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Taal: Engels

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